Chapter Text
Pups are born from the matriarch of the pod, one mother who can get up to the size of a blue whale if fully grown. She will birth around 1,000 eggs, though only about 100 will survive to teen hood, and only around 10 to adulthood. Pods are governed by the matriarch, and usually take up space in underwater caves, reefs, or for freshwater Mer’s in large bodies of fresh water. - From The Life and Living of Mer’s, Dr. Cara Puffy.
Puffy narrowed her eyes against the blistering wind as the ocean frothed and chopped around her. Her vessel, the S.S Duckling, swayed with the waves from the motions of the gigantic Mer off in the distance.
They were docked in the English channel, with the entire channel blocked off by the government. A matriarch and her pod had settled close by, and with the birthing season coming so close everyone wanted to avoid needless Mer deaths.
At her side, her son Dream was leant over the rail of the ship, his eyes combing the depths.
“You won’t be able to see the scout yet,” she called over the wind, “it isn’t safe for him to come out when the matriarch is like this!”
“I know!” Dream called back, raising his head from where he was staring into the waves, “I’m just, worried. There hasn’t been a matriarch dying as bad as this one in a century! What if there are more casualties that we don’t know about?”
Puffy sighed, gripping the metal rail and joining her son in looking into the water. “Then we’ll have to deal with whatever consequences come our way. All we can do is hope that the scout was able to save a few pups.”
Dream hummed, and they lapsed into silence again.
What Dream said did worry Puffy. This particular matriarch had been around for almost 300 years, triple what usual Mer’s lived to. She was massive, a wonderful matriarch to her pod but over the years her age had begun to catch up to her.
More reports of dead adult and teen Mer’s surfacing around the pod’s territory had left Puffy worried so bad her stomach ached. Had there been an uptick in shark attacks? Did another war between pods break out again?
Her worries crested into full blown panic when a half a dozen baby Mers appeared, slaughtered. This wasn’t the usual culling of defective or runt Mers, but rather a merciless killing caused by something wrong within the Pod itself.
The scout agreeing to meet them, Grian, was their only glimpse into what was happening on the inside. Grian had been a rescue of theirs, Puffy had helped raise him and rehabilitate him to rejoin his Pod. He gave them updates on the pod, and in return Puffy would give him news about any new Mer’s who arrived.
The last time Puffy had seen Grian, though, the Mer’s face was stony and grim. He was thin, with his ribs poking out and his cheeks sunken in. Something was horribly wrong.
Though what Grian told her, Puffy would have never thought of. A Matriarch, poisoned by her old age and the sea, was culling her Pod.
The first to go was her own attendants, slaughtered and then mercilessly eaten by her. She had gone for the protectors next, gobbling them down and slicing into any of the pups they had devoted their existence to protecting.
After hearing this, Puffy knew a great dying was about to begin. The matriarch, knowing that she was dying, had killed off any of her attendants so that a new matriarch couldn’t be chosen. The dead pups also meant that none of them could take her place.
This matriarch was toxic, but her time was approaching fast. Though Puffy didn’t belive in most deities, she was sure that whoever ruled the ocean would take the matriarch when her time came.
Her train of thought broke as red scales shimmered below the surface. Grian! She exhaled a sigh of relief, and jogged over to the short plank that was installed into the boat. Unhinging it, she allowed the short plank to flop into the water with a loud slap.
Grian surfaced, his face pinched as he hauled just one pup behind him. He hefted the pup onto the plank, and flopped against it with a grunt.
“Is…Is it just him?” Puffy asked, kneeling down in front of Grian.
The Mer nodded shortly, “the rest of them are dead. I’m sorry, Puffy.”
Puffy reached out, gently pulling the little Mer closer to her. He was small, a little runt. She almost laughed at the irony.
A whole pod of Mer’s slaughtered, and the one who survived was the smallest runt she had ever seen. He looked barely older than a year, wriggling on the plank and chirping quietly. Too small to even know danger or fear, he stared up at her with massive trusting eyes that made her throat grow tight.
“It’s okay,” she breathed, willing her voice not to shake, “it’s okay. Thank you for bringing him. Do you want to tag along? I can get you below deck if you want-”
Grian shook his head, his lips pressed into a thin line, “I can’t, I’m sorry Puffy. I’ve gathered a few of the survivors with me to form a new pod. Once the matriarch is dead, I’ll return.”
He pulled away from the plank, casting a last mournful glance at the pup and Puffy before he slipped back into the depths and was gone before Puffy could get another word in.
“Fuck, he’s so little,” Dream gasped as he knelt beside her, leaning on one arm and brushing his fingers against the pup’s hair with his finger. The pup, with long curly blonde hair, purred and rubbed against his hand eagerly. He blinked slowly, his bright red tail tapping against the fiberglass plank.
“He’s so small,” Dream whispered, cupping his hand under the Mer’s tiny head. The Mer churred quietly, his eyes fluttering closed in warmth.
“Yeah,” Puffy whispered back, looking out into the ocean. It really was just him, wasn’t it? All of the other pups had been killed, and this was all that was left of the dwindling pod.
The red Mer cuddled up in Dream’s palm was the smallest Puffy had ever seen, at a pitiful three feet long he was barely longer than their largest Mer’s hand.
“Let’s get him below deck,” Puffy said, feeling as though she had stalled enough. She pushed back the aching feeling that had settled in her chest, and put on a brave face.
With Dream carrying the little Mer, they quickly made their way into the belly of the boat. The boat wasn’t something to sneeze at, with a few large tanks full of constantly flowing water. They were big enough to house even the largest of hunters, so when the little Mer was dunked inside he easily found room to paddle around and play.
Puffy exhaled slowly, rubbing her face with her hands tiredly. “Fuck, this is bad,” she murmured, turning to Dream, “we need to get back to the base. Hopefully he can be integrated into Grian’s pod when he’s older. I don’t know what lasting effects being in that pod are.”
Dream hummed, his eyes following the little Mer as he danced and swam around in his new little pod. Perfectly oblivious to the world around him.
Oh, how Puffy wished she could be like him.