“I still think this is a bad idea,” Snatch muttered. He drew the whetstone across the blade of his scythe, grimacing at the harsh scraping sound. “Bad idea. Bad job. Bad partner to do it with.”

“And I still think you’re being a jerk about that.” Snatch looked up from sharpening his scythe. Larya, a dark-haired woman with bright green eyes to match her plain green skirt, sat against a smooth-barked, moss-covered tree. The tree had warped itself into a strange sort of S-shape, presenting a perfect sort of ‘chair’ for her to sit on.

It looked very comfortable, compared to the boulder he was resting against. Druids never had to rough it in the wilderness.

“Merfolk, Larya. Fey.” He again ran the whetstone along the notched, bloodstained blade. “We’re working for fey. That never ends well. I don’t care how much they’re paying us; we should have told them to shove their problems up their … whatever it is fish shit out of.”

“Well, now you’re just being an asshole.” Larya pouted. “We’ve known plenty of nice fey! Suisshu, Lim—“

“I hate Lim, though.”

“I know you do.”

“Are there any ‘nice’ fey that you haven’t ended up screwing at some point?“

Larya went bright red. “O—well, Ariadne, for one! Please! It doesn’t happen that often!“

“Doesn’t happen that ...” Snatch bit his tongue, holding back a thousand curses—half of which he himself didn’t know the meaning of. The thief lowered his scythe, locking dark eyes with Larya’s green ones. “Ever since I hired you five months ago—”

“We’re partners, you ass.”

He flipped her an obscene gesture with one hand without slowing. “—you have spent every mission fucking something.” He whisked the whetstone across the blade, punctuating his words with the ugly screech of the metal. “Every. Single. One.”

“What?” Larya’s eyes widened. She glared, straightening her short green skirt. “That’s ridiculous!”

“No. Fuck no.” Snatch got up, strapping his scythe to his back. “First mission, you fuck the muse sprite. And the kelpie. And probably the kitten sprite!”

“Catgirl,” Larya corrected.

Snatch gritted his teeth, ignoring her. “Then there’s the time with the Arachne Girl, the time with the goddamn vampire … oh, and let’s not forget the time you got caught in quicksand for ten minutes and ended up covered in mud, sucking your own goddamn breasts and getting off with a—”

“Okay, h-hey, that’s just a misrepresentation,” Larya said, getting up as well. She was keeping her legs pretty close together now. “Th-the quicksand was enchanted. I wasn’t myself.”

“My point is,” Snatch growled, “fey are extra trouble when you’re around. No offense. If this is gonna be the last mission we go on together, just try to keep it under control, got it?”

Larya rolled her eyes.

Snatch held in a sigh. It wasn’t that he hated Larya. He didn’t even dislike her, really. She was handy in a fight, and she was a decent person to hang out around. The trouble was, sometimes she was too decent. She always acted like she owed the world something—and always tried to make him act that way, too.

He was looking forward to the end of this mission, and the return to solitude, and moral simplicity, it would bring. “Look.” He held up his hands in a manner he hoped was conciliatory. “I don’t want this to be another situation where we meet these merfolk, you screw, like, twenty of them, and suddenly we have to start giving a shit about their personal problems. We’re not here to be heroes, especially not for fey. We’re here on a job. You gonna be alright with that?”

Larya crossed her arms. After a moment’s thought, she giggled. “Fine, fine. No hero-ing. In fact, if we see any starving merfolk orphans on the side of the road, let’s throw rocks at them.”

“Druid.”

“Kidding! Got it. No hanky-panky on the job.” She crossed her fingers, winking. “Druid’s honor. Dry as a duck. ”

* * *

“Oh! Oh!” Ambere let out a keening, dolphin-like cry. “Stop! Oh, stop, please! Oh, gods!”

Her eel-like tail thrashed in the water, sending bubbles violently churning to the surface. It was the only part of her still free of … it.

The sucking on her breasts wouldn’t stop, no matter how hard she begged. Ambere moaned, her hands held fast to keep her from trying to escape—or pleasuring herself further.

Had the region of the Weeping Sea Ambere was currently in contained a single living creature besides herself, the creature would have seen a scarlet-haired mermaid writhing and moaning in response to nothing. Her eyes were wild and desperate, but her arms stayed stiffly at her sides. Her long hair drifted, framing her heart-shaped face like a halo.

Had the creature looked more closely, it would have noticed one small irregularity. Her breasts were definitely not behaving normally. Indeed, the large orbs were bouncing, and squishing, as if something was squeezing them—perhaps even suckling at them.

Had the creature looked even closer still, it would have been equally damned. Nowadays, the Slick Trench was avoided by merfolk and sea beasts for a reason. Even the crueler water fey stayed clear of it nowadays. Ambere’s curiosity had led her into many scrapes and scuffles in the past, and this time, it would be her unmaking.

She whimpered, feeling another deliciously depraved slurp against her tingling nipples.

From behind, there came a feminine giggle. Ambere looked about, but she could see nothing. And then another slurp ran over her breasts, and she forgot even that curiosity.

A tickling sensation began at the tips of her nipples. Slowly, it became an itch. Then an ache.

She let out a hoarse scream as an intense wave of pleasure surged through her body, gripping her tightly and not letting go. Her hyper-sensitized breasts began lactating a strange pale liquid at an alarmingly fast rate.

She squealed with glee even as her heart plummeted. What? What was … oh … ohhh...

“So hard to think,” a girl cooed in her ear. “Feels so nice. So nice. So nice.

The mermaid, overwhelmed by the sensation of pure bliss, could only sob in despair-tinged ecstasy as she slowly began to drift down, down, into the black of the Slick Trench.

* * *

Larya sat at the edge of a large tide pool, kicking her feet in the salty clear water. She sighed. Nearby, Snatch—known to her as Alrek—was hard at work trudging over the muddy beach.

It had started to rain an hour or so ago. She’d offered to help, but Alrek, ever proud, had refused to let her near his prize.

It was a conch shell. A really, really big conch shell. Larya had easily been able to ‘convince’ the few tons of wet sand burying it to move aside. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that even cleared of sand, it was still very heavy, and Larya couldn’t easily levitate it out of the hole—nor could she do much to help pull it across the beach to the rendezvous point.

She leaned back, enjoying the sunny rays. They only shone on her part of the beach. Sometimes it paid to be a druid.

The young druidess looked back up, biting her lip. Alrek had never much cared for her. There were a lot of walls there. Perhaps someone with infinite love and patience could peel back those layers to find the kindhearted soul beneath. Larya was not that someone. She wasn’t sure such a person existed. It was hard working with him, but in another way, it was sort of freeing. Snatch had a blunt sort of common sense that she sometimes appreciated. Plus, it was nice to work with someone who wasn’t constantly out to run her through.

Pity he had to be such an asshole about it.

“Hey, Alrek,” she called, “almost done with that? I’m getting cold.”

Snatch looked up at her, eyes widening with disbelief. The muscular, dark-haired thief was soaking wet, his patchy leather armor reeking that foul wet-dog odor it always got when it rained. Even from several meters away, the smell was impossible to miss. “Getting cold? You’re in a fucking personal sunbeam. Maybe you could help instead of complain, druid.”

“You wouldn’t let me!”

“Ugh.” Snatch gave the conch shell one last haul. The man-sized item had a chipped point, making it possible to blow through. “This better be close enough. I don’t get paid to haul stuff around.”

“Yes, you do,” Larya said brightly. She got to her feet, picked up her yew staff, and walked over. “Remember? When that vampire harem captured us, and you had to do all those chores dressed like a ...” She trailed off, face heating up as she remembered what had happened next. This probably wasn’t the best memory to bring up to Snatch right now.

He gave her a look that could wither a redwood. “Blow the shell.”

Larya gave a nervous titter as she walked over, took a deep breath, and wrapped her lips around the shell’s point. With all her might, she blew.

No sound came out.

She frowned, licked her lips, and blew again. This time, she kept blowing until her face was red. Still nothing. “Snatch, I think you broke it somehow.”

“Think I—” Glaring, Snatch shoved her out of the way. “Let me try.”

“Please do not,” said a clear female voice.

Giving identical starts, Larya and Snatch turned.

Lying on the wet sand, just a few paces away, two merfolk watched them with half-lidded eyes.

One was a deeply-tanned mermaid with a bright red salmon tail and long white hair done up in elaborate braids. Despite her hair color, she looked young—scarcely over nineteen, with pert breasts and a dazzling, suggestive smile. It was the sort of smile that promised an extremely inventive mind.

The other was a pale merman, with a chiseled physique, short red hair, and a piercing gaze. His muscular arms gripped a trident, which he used to prop himself up—his lower body was long and flat, with strange wing-like fins that made Larya think of a manta ray. He looked her over and gave a little smirk.

Both of them were completely naked. Obviously, they had nothing below the waist, but what they had above was still very … distracting. Larya’s mouth was dry as tried in vain to look away from the mermaid’s breasts. They weren’t incredibly large, but they were very full and perky—and the mermaid’s posture wasn’t doing anything to hide them. Indeed, the merfolk seemed quite amused at her fascination.

Luckily, Alrek was ready to tag in. The thief stepped up, clearly trying to look intimidating despite his bedraggled condition. “You got here quick,” he snapped.

“Why, of course,” the mermaid said. She traced a finger over her left breast, locking eyes with Larya. “We can hear the conch horn with ease. You were hurting our ears, in fact—your pretty friend has quite the lung capacity.”

“I’m not surprised,” the merman said, eying Larya with a predatory look. He smiled, showing sharp teeth. “Quite the lips to blow with, too.”

“Um ...” Larya bit her lip, still unable to tear her gaze off the pair. This was always a problem. “I-I, um, th-the ...”

“I, I, thuh, thuh, what?” The mermaid laughed. And yet her expression remained friendly and inviting. “Silly girl.”

“What a silly girl,” the merman agreed.

Larya could feel herself getting wet between her legs at the mockery—both at the sight of the two beauties, and the degrading mockery. Damn it. Did they guess? She closed her legs tight and breathed in deeply. She could tell this only amused and encouraged the merfolk further, but it beat letting them see anything … dripping.

It wasn’t her fault, she knew. Not totally. Druids always had trouble controlling themselves around fey. The rituals they performed had ‘loosened’ them from the mortal world, and everything about fey always quickly became utterly intoxicating. Of course, even among her peers, Larya had always ‘excelled’ …

That wasn’t all her fault, either, but what was done was done.

“Hey!” The rapid snapping of fingers woke her out of her reverie. The fey looked over sharply at a very irritated Snatch. “We’re here to do a job, not fuck the locals. Now, if you don’t want our help, you and she can do whatever you want together. I just thought you had an actual problem.”

He turned to leave. The merfolks’ smug looks gave way to anguish, and Larya broke free of her stupor and straightened.

“Wait!” the mermaid cried. She pulled herself up the muddy beach by her arms—her graceful form was clearly not optimal for land travel—and grabbed Snatch’s leg. It was a pathetically submissive gesture, and Larya’s heart went out to her. “We do have one!”

Alrek’s hand leaped for his scythe. Remembering how her partner reacted to being touched, Larya gulped and hurried over. She leaned down and gently took the mermaid’s hand to clasp it with her own, smiling. “And we’d be happy to help. I know merfolk don’t like dealing with land-dwellers in a, er, equal manner, but you have to treat my partner and I with respect, okay? You’re the ones who want our help.”

She lifted the mermaid up to eye level with some small difficulty. Larya was very strong for her size. “See? We’re all equals here.”

The merman pulled himself over and climbed onto a boulder, apparently not wishing to be the only one on the ground. He leaned over, eyes blazing. “Do not patronize us, druidess. I’ve netted dozens of landwhores just like you. Believe that you’ll be begging for my touch before the moon’s next rise.”

Larya met his gaze, then quickly lowered her eyes. She shivered.

“Oh, be silent, Mylio.” The mermaid rolled her turquoise eyes. She gripped Larya’s shoulder, seeming grateful for the support—and perhaps a bit too eager to get her hands on her, Larya thought. “Forgive my mate. He has … dismissive views towards the land-dwellers.”

“I understand,” Larya said. From the looks Mylio was giving her, his opinion was anything but dismissive—at least, in the sense of disinterest. Cheeks flushing, she quickly went on. “But you need our help, don’t you?”

“We do.” The mermaid flashed a winsome smile. “My name is Nerka—I know, it sounds foolish. Merfolk like to name their children after fish. I’m just lucky to have avoided Suk-kegh.”

Larya giggled, while Snatch just looked mystified. Salmon puns were likely lost on the self-declared nature hater.

“Anyways,” Nerka said, “we have a very serious problem. We believe that the ... Slick Trench is inhabited.”

“The fuck is a slick trench?” Snatch asked. Larya shared his curiosity, though the name was vaguely familiar.

Nerka bit her lip. “The Slick Trench is...a dead zone. Long ago, when we merfolk declared war upon each other in the names of our goddesses, it’s where the Deep Merfolk fled.”

Snatch still looked confused, but Larya felt a sudden chill as she remembered. The Deep Merfolk had been merfolk with the lower bodies of deep sea creatures like anglerfish and giant squids. Through the Abyssal Zone’s hellish rifts, they had over time evolved demonic characteristics and become strange and reclusive. They had never fought in the merfolks’ many wars, and in fact hadn’t been heard from for many fey generations.

“The Deep Merfolk are back?” she whispered.

“No,” Mylio said from up on the rock. Larya looked up, and he smirked at her, resting his chin upon his palm. “But something else is taking their place. It’s not of any sea we know.”

Larya squirmed under his relentless gaze. “What’s it doing?”

For a moment, silence hung on the beach, interrupted only by the roar-and-hiss of waves rearing up and striking sand.

“Fucking. It is fucking mermaids like little landwhores.” Mylio’s smile grew as he kept staring at Larya. “One of our number strayed into the Trench a month ago and didn’t return. So we sent three more to investigate. Of the three, two were maids. Both went missing, and the one merman was lynched by their families.”

“That ...” Larya’s eyes watered. She wanted so badly to blink, but Mylio’s gaze held her like physical bindings—or perhaps a fishing line, reeling her in... “... that’s awful.”

“We are not much for trials.” He leaned over on the rock so that he was just a foot or so above her. “We sent six more down—all but two maids. One of the mermen saw his mate pulled away, and he went to save her.”

Larya tried to look down, now, but he reached down with one hand, roughly cupping her chin and forcing her to continue meeting his gaze. “She was screaming. Moaning. Pleading. ’Please,’ she screamed at him, like a little spreadlegged slut, ’just let me finish.’”

Larya swallowed as Mylio’s fingers traced over her lips. “Her mate fled. The little slut finished. And then she sank into the darkness. Still begging for more.”

Larya’s eyes were half-closed. She felt him planting little kisses on her forehead. “Will you beg quite as loudly, I wonder?”

Larya shivered again. She found herself leaning into the merman’s touch ...

Nerka was still holding Larya’s hand, and she gave it a squeeze. As Larya’s mind fell back to reality, the mermaid turned Larya around like a doll to face her. She gave a smile that didn’t quite seem motivated by honorable intentions. “Don’t listen to him, dearest. He’s just bitter that his late mate got a better writhing than what he could deliver.”

“I have no doubt,” Mylio said, tracing his fingers over Larya’s neckline. Larya gasped as she felt him tickling the little area of cleavage her cloak exposed. “They grant untold pleasure to the whores they capture.” His voice lowered to a whisper in Larya’s ear. “It’s said that they know the art of sensuality better than any mortal … or demon … or fey...”

“Sounds like you should be off fucking one of those,” Snatch remarked.

Larya heard Mylio give a low hiss of annoyance, and he pulled away from Larya. She suppressed a miniscule whimper of disappointment. “They only go after the females, mortal. Whatever they are, they care not for us males.” He glanced at Larya, raising an eyebrow. “We didn’t know you had a … partner.”

The suggestion in his words unsettled Larya enough to clear her head a little. She took a step away from the rock (though Nerka still held her hand), scowling. “I’m not his partner. I’m his … something. We work together, is all.”

“Hm.” Larya simultaneously wished two things: First, she wished she could wipe that smug look off of Mylio’s face so hard that he’d never smile again. Second, she really, really wanted to let him fuck her. “Well, I’ll keep that … in mind.”

“We don’t know that they only target women,” Nerka said. “Males have gone missing.”

Mylio scoffed. “Males who lived near the Slick Trench. Prostitutes, cleaners—barely more than the whores that have been claimed. Like as not they simply fled the area to avoid facing … ‘justice’ for the fates of the lost.”

“So, what are these creatures you want dead?” Snatch snapped.

“We’re not sure.” Nerka gave Larya’s hand another squeeze as she leaned against the druidess to face Snatch. “Some sort of ooze, we think.”

Larya was blushing furiously. The mermaid felt really … nice, there, leaning on her neck. “S-so, what color is it?” she blurted, immediately regretting it. Stupid question. Stupid, dumb question.

“It doesn’t have a color,” Nerka said, turning to face Larya. She could clearly tell the effect she was having on Larya. Her mouth was now uncomfortably close to Larya’s neck, such that Larya could feel warm breath condensating on her skin whenever the mermaid spoke. “In fact, since no merfolk have been able to touch it and survive, we have no idea if it’s even there.” She frowned. “It may well be some sort of ghost, for all we know.”

“Well,” Snatch said, “whatever it is, we’ll kill it. It’s what we do. Now, the fee.”

An awkward silence fell upon the four. The merfolk exchanged looks.

“Well...” The mermaid giggled nervously. “Surely we can come to an arrangement.”

“I’m sure we can,” the merman said, fixing Snatch with a piercing glare.

The ever-ill-tempered thief glared right back. “We’d better. ’Cause I’m not leaving this beach empty-handed.”

Mylio sniffed. “As if we’d bother to cheat the likes of you.”

“As if you’d bother to ... to shut up and pay us, you cheating fishfolk.”

Mylio’s eyes blazed. His hand flew to his trident, as Snatch’s fingers tightened around the scythe at his back—

“Oh, would you all stop it?” Larya stepped between the two, waving her staff at her ‘partner’. “Snatch, we don’t get paid when you kill the boss. We learned that after the elf brothel incident, remember?”

“You—” Snatch’s eyes bulged. “I thought we agreed never to bring that dragonshit up again!”

“Snatch, come on,” Larya said, voice coming out almost as a whine. “I just want to get in the water and out of the rain!”

“Ugh. Fine. But only ’cause it’s raining.” Snatch stepped around Larya, rolling his eyes. “Salvage rights to the White Onyx galleon, off the Bonecove.”

“That galleon has more priceless treasures than you have grease in your hair, you horrid little man.” Mylio raised an eyebrow. “You may pick a single item from the galleon.”

“Five items of our choosing. Each.”

“Each? I should skewer you and serve you to the dolphins for such impudence. That...”

Larya tuned the discussion out. This was the only area of conversation in which Alrek excelled—he could be a clueless ass, but a haggler didn’t have to be insightful or articulate, just stubborn and gutsy. She had no interest in the particulars of the payment.

In fact, the more she journeyed with Alrek, the more she wondered if her interests matched his at all. Adventuring was hard, and dangerous, but she didn’t mind any of that. She just wanted to help people. Alrek, by contrast, only seemed to really care about getting paid. He’d gotten better at it, but apparently, the basic kindness he’d learned to bestow upon humanoids did not extend to fey.

She sighed, lower lip sticking out.

“Hey,” breathed a voice in her ear. She gave a start, turning to see Nerka giving a very dirty look. “While they’re talking, why don’t we just … relocate.”

“What?”

Nerka pulled on her arm, leading her around the rock. Larya feebly protested, but not quite loud enough for Snatch and Mylio to notice, and she followed Nerka willingly.

Nerka slithered on her scarlet tail with surprising grace, tugging Larya rapidly to the far side. Larya, caught off balance by the sudden speed, fell on her stomach in the wet sand behind the boulder.

She started to get up. A tanned, slender pressed against her chest and pushed her back down. She gave a little whimper of confusion. That confusion vanished as she rolled over and saw Nerka looming over her. The expression the mermaid wore now was not just dirty—it was downright filthy. And she looked very, very pleased with herself.

“I couldn’t resist,” she hissed, her hands crawling over Larya’s shoulders and down under her robes. “Seeing you, so tasty and … mmm!”

Larya’s half-hearted protests died into little squeaks as she felt the slender hands working over her breasts, tickling, squeezing, rubbing. She looked up at Nerka’s cute face. The mermaid look positively rapturous, her eyes half-closed, giving a low purr. “I’ve gotta have you … oh … before you go ...”

Larya gave an especially loud squeak as the fingers picked up their efforts. She heard the haggling stop for a moment, and gulped. She was trying to stay quiet, but Nerka’s attentions were making it very, very difficult. But maybe ‘quiet’ didn’t need to be a priority.

“So hot,” Nerka rasped in her ear, “taking you … right under their noses … I’m gonna—”

Sucking in a deep breath, Larya leaned up and gave Nerka’s perky nipple a long, sensuous lick.

Instantly, the mermaid was lying on the ground beside her, mewling. Larya gave a low growl of lust as the hands slipped from her breasts. She sat up and descended on Nerka. She licked the mermaid’s breasts, her neck, her cheeks, smothering the mermaid in wet kisses.

Merfolk did not actually possess sexual organs, but they were far from celibate. Merfolk achieved their orgasms through hypersensitivity—their entire bodies, save their hands and tails, were far more sensitive to attention than any ordinary wet pussy or hard cock.

Larya put her hands on Nerka’s naked breasts and started kneading them roughly, massaging them with trained expertise. She took the mermaid in a passionate kiss, stifling the mermaid’s cries with her piercing, questing tongue.

In mere moments, the mermaid was shaking uncontrollably, inches from orgasm. Larya savored the mermaid’s desperate moans as she sped up her efforts further, flicking and twisting Nerka’s nipples with one hand and caressing her cheek with the other. Even this simple touch elicited a loud whimper from the mermaid.

The mermaid seemed to have been soundly unprepared for such a brutal assault, and her climax was thunderous. Within moments, she was thrashing and jerking violently in Larya’s unyielding grip, screaming her bliss into the kiss.

Larya broke off the kiss, clasped her hand over the mermaid’s mouth to block the orgasmic cries—mostly just to stimulate those sensitive lips of hers—and started licking Nerka’s neck, cooing nonsense words to soothe the pleasure-stricken fey.

At last, the thrashing ceased. Larya’s hand crept away from Nerka’s mouth, but she didn’t stop kissing.

Panting, Nerka put her hand on Larya’s shoulder. “That ...” she gasped, “that … ooh … um, you can—aah—stop now.” Larya continued kissing and nibbling at the mermaid’s sensitized neck, ignoring her. “You can—can … can, um ...oh, goddess ...”

Larya smiled slyly as the mermaid started moaning again. Her hands returned to their tasks, stroking around Nerka’s breasts and brushing over her lips, keeping her submerged in liquid pleasure.

“I’m not letting you go that easy,” she teased, tongue flicking in Nerka’s ear. “Where’s that famous mermaid stamina?”

Merfolk stamina was infamously pathetic. Larya estimated that Nerka was in for a long half-hour.

* * *

Two hours later, the rain had finally ceased.

Snatch glared at Mylio. “It’s daylight robbery.”

“It’s all we can afford to pay,” the merman snapped, wrenching out his sodden red hair. Which seemed a bit pointless to Snatch, come to think of it. “You might as well be ripping the treasure from our ancestors’ cold, dead fingers.”

“Two trinkets for a kill job on an unknown foe?”

“Two priceless artifacts from the White Onyx. For something that won’t even attack you.” Mylio waved a hand dismissively. “Just your pet whore.”

Snatch rapped his scythe’s handle against the rock. “She’s my ... ally,” he said, through gritted teeth. He refused to say the word ‘partner’. “For now. And if she gets caught by some rape-happy monster, I will tie your goddamn stupid tail to a ship’s mast.”

Mylio sighed, rolling his eyes. “We will pay you an extra chest of gold if she dies.”

Snatch’s eyes bulged. Internally, very old aspects of his personality clicked and clacked, running the math. No, she was definitely worth at least four chests. Just speaking practically. He quickly silenced the errant calculator. That was not him anymore. “Four chests. And ...” His head tilted. “Your trident.”

“My what?”

Snatch’s eyes narrowed. “You heard me.”

Mylio looked at his trident, stunned. “Wh-why would you want this?” He looked like a little child being told to give up his favorite toy.

“I don’t.” Snatch grimaced. “But I think it’ll make sure you tag along and help make sure she stays out of harm’s way. And it guarantees you won’t try to brainwash her yourself.”

For a moment, Mylio looked livid. His hands clenched around the trident. His dark turquoise eyes shone with malice.

Then, oddly enough, it passed. He suddenly seemed calm. His hands relaxed. His eyes returned to normal. He even gave a little smirk. “So be it. I will personally guarantee the land wh—the … Larya’s safety. If she is lost to the creatures, the trident is yours.”

Snatch frowned. He wasn’t good at reading people.

After a moment’s hesitation, he offered his hand to shake. After another moment, Mylio accepted it. With two fingers, as if he wanted to touch as little of Snatch as possible.

Snatch immediately yanked his hand away. It was done. “Larya!” he called. “Damn it, are you still off—oh, there you are.”

Larya had just emerged from behind the boulder. Her dark hair was somewhat unkempt, and her bright eyes had a familiar sparkle to them. “Sorry!” she chirped. “Just showing Nerka a seashell I found!”

“Hmph.” Snatch didn’t much care who Larya fucked, but he did care about how loud it had been. At least it didn’t seem like any of it had been unwilling. Not that the obnoxious girl's wellbeing was any kind of priority for him, just... well, anyways.

A very frazzled-looking Nerka slithered around the corner. The mermaid’s perfect white braids were tangled in knots, her entire body was glistening with sweat, and she was currently rubbing a part of her neck Snatch was pretty sure had a hickey. “Yes!” she gasped, then straightened—leaning conspicuously on Larya’s shoulder. “Yes. It was a nice seashell.”

Mylio shrugged, already turning away. “I care not for your childish hobbies, woman. Come. We have settled on a price.”

“Oh, g-good!” Still looking and sounding a bit dazed, Nerka slithered over. “You did get ’im down to one artifar … artififif ... treasure thing, right?”

Mylio let out a low growl.

Snatch suppressed a laugh, exchanging a look with Larya. Larya beamed and leaned over. “Mermen tend to have pampered martial positions in their society,” she whispered in his ear. “Not too good at math, or diplomacy. I figured haggling would be easier if Nerka was, um, busy.”

Sometimes the druidess wasn’t all useless.