Dick spat out the salty water from his lungs in a painful retching. He took a breath of air. Waves slapped the rocks, driven by the wind, as he gradually came back to his senses. The sun dazzled him, intensifying the high-pitched buzzing in his ears. "What..."

But then, his memory came flooding back. The Nightwing, his pirate boat, sailing into a storm, the cries of his sailors, the muffled sounds of splitting wood, and finally the sensation of water engulfing his body and filling his lungs. His fingers tightened around the sand under his body.

His sight gradually returned as a figure leaned towards him. "Who are—" but he stopped as his gaze slid down the stranger's body. He saw that, instead of legs, the latter had a fishtail. "You're from the sea."

His concern for his crew was growing, but he couldn't help feeling grateful to have been saved, to be safe and sound on the beach at last, listening to the now reassuring sound of the waves.

Nevertheless, he'd never seen a merfolk before. He knew the legends, each more terrible than the last, especially those of the sirens whose voices lured sailors into the depths to be drowned and devoured. Except that his savior seemed different from the rumors, almost friendly.

Dick cleared his throat. "Thank you, you saved me," he said, running a hand through his hair lengthened by the duration of his voyage. He kept a short distance from the merfolk purely as a precaution, even though he still couldn't move much, his body numb and tired from the storm.

He ran a hand over his ribs through the opening in his soaked shirt, feeling his wounds. The salt of the sea stung his bruises and scratches, but he didn't want to worry about his own condition. "Do you know what happened to my crew? The Nightwing? Are they all okay? Back to the kingdom?"

He could only hope that his companions were safe and sound, that they'd found shelter despite the terrible storm and that he was the only one who fell into the sea.