Follow

The young mermaid thrashed about as she'd been taught to.

Eventually a kindly land-dweller would try to save her. So far it'd just been the same golden-furred canine six times.

"Stop it," she scolded, even as she ruffled its floppy ears, "You're not the type of land-dweller I'm trying to drag to a watery fate."

But as the sun set, the mermaid sighed, "You'll have to do."

The dog adapted to gills and a swimming tail with surprising ease.

Sign in to participate in the conversation
Mastodon

The original server operated by the Mastodon gGmbH non-profit