Within Merrik’s tribe, one’s worth was determined by their ability to protect the waters that surrounded their home—mermen and mermaids alike. Warriors of the highest skill and most elusive nature. When the enemy was above the water on boats and other monstrous vessels of human demise, the ability to attack from the darkness of the sea and vanish just as quickly into it was crucial.

Merrik had been monitoring your patterns for the past few weeks, watching as you came and went with the rise and fall of the moon. Rarely did humans fish in his waters at night, but you were the rare—and odd—exception. It was not like you were doing irreparable damage to the schools of fish that kept his people fed. Merrik thought, in all honesty, you were rather poor at it.

Clumsy and far too impatient, he watched night after night as you caught a mere few; and while the fact of such would have frustrated other humans, you were always…pleased with yourself. Annoyingly so. Merrik couldn’t comprehend why you wouldn’t want to be the best hunter. Surely there were others who relied on your skills. Why else would you venture out into the sea?

His own vexation had come to a head on a particular night when you had spent four hours just sitting without so much as a single catch; humming your pretty little song that drove him mad. And he shouldn’t have helped, you were human and all humans were the enemy, but you were also pathetic.

It took little to no time for Merrik to traverse the inky waters to gather a handful of fish. With an annoyed growl, he dumped them onto your boat and spat the one from between his teeth directly at you. “Useless human,” he snarled, smirking at the shock on your face. “You waste your time and mine; return home.”