Chapter Text
Midway through the summer, 12 nights after the midsummer heatwave is the best time for the smaller rivers. The sleeping beds in the Lakes are too warm now to feel totally cool in, especially since it seems to be getting warmer. Resting in the cool rocks while the water flows steadily over his body, peace filled Vern’s body, eyes resting closed just a few feet under the rivers surface.
The banks of the river around him were covered in rocks and had dense trees further up the shoreline. The humans often didn’t like to struggle to get to a nice spot for them in the water. Vern didn’t blame them, if he had two legs these rocks would be miserable. Thankfully there were ideal places for humans to be further down stream and some up stream, only a couple people were on the banks when he passed so nobody should bother trying to get close to this area.
He often came here during the days after the midsummer heatwave, often joined by a few others but they went up closer to the mountains this year not coming back to rest at night, just to spend the summer there. Not wanting to risk getting stuck so far away from home in unknown drying rivers hoping that the rain would come sooner. Laying here alone, he listened to the current and sounds of the creatures living there.
Vern lazed about in that section of the river for a few hours before slowly letting himself drift downstream more. About 300 feet upstream from the next clearing, Vern spots a bright red spot hanging between trees up on the bank, a human came out from the trees and looked out at the water with something in his hand. Deciding that these humans were doing something interesting enough Vern found a rock upstream and across the river from them to watch. Most of the time people were resting on chairs by the river, drinking, eating and playing in the water. Fewer people fished and looked for crustaceans in these parts of the river but every now and again it was fun to watch the humans hunt swimming food.
Watching a human in the trees put up a blue spot, the one standing at the rivers edge asked if the other one needed help with a Hammock. Vern could make out the fishing pole in his hand, grateful the wideness of the river and the rocks he was behind. The man putting up the blue hammock had long light brown hair and a beard. Both of them had tanned skin and seemed strong, conversing about something while they worked around their newfound campground.
Vern made himself comfortable in the large smooth stones he was hiding amid. Lounging in a way that he could hear the men fish and talk, seeing them wasn’t as important as that could lead to being caught easier. He could try to imagine them walk around the bank and prepping their things from many times of watching other fishermen.
The sun passes further and it enters the evening, the men having caught a couple fish each decide on making a fire. Vern was hoping that he would get close enough to watch them. The fish they had caught were sitting the river on a line waiting for prep, smelling them through the water was enticing but food could be found on the way home, the crayfish were coming out after all too. They had stepped away from the shore and into their camp, gathering wood. Vern hearing them gather and cut firewood, he looked at the bank. The area around the camp on the bank had tall grass, flattened where they had been walking between for fishing and their camp.
Vern pulls himself up the small rocky shore of the river and up the bank to the grass line, he could see just barely into the humans small camp. Vern spots a small pile of wood in the middle of their hammocks and sits and waits. Watching people make fire was a good time, after all it isn’t really a merfolk skill.
Jason and Tristan walked by Vern on their way back into camp area. They sat down around a shallow hole they dug and had rocks placed around. Vern saw them gathering some earlier in the day which gave him the idea that they might be making a fire.
They had a lighter, some kindling that they found, and the small logs found earlier. Jason started the fire while Tristan got the logs more ready. Jason had the kindle going for a bit before the logs finally caught. A little wet from the rain two nights ago most likely. Watching the light dance across their faces from the edges of the reeds and tall grass, Jason had on glasses which reflected the light of the fire more.
Vern did not crave the life these humans lead, nor any others he came across. But he would love to sit at the fire with these folks, eat, drink, and talk. Vern watched as they sat back and watched the fire for a little, making sure it stayed lit and talking a little. Vern was merely resting his head and arms side of the edge of the bank, torso and tail laying on the dirt wall and barely touching the rocks. The bank was just shorter than he and the shore was quick to recede into the water.
“Go get the fish from the river, I’ll get a little more wood for cookin’,” Tristan said as he got up. Walking past Vern much closer this time around, he could reach out and grab one of the humans legs. He heard Jason walking onto the shore next to him. Vern realizes his mistake of getting this close and stays still, hoping the dark scales on his back do enough to hid him from the human’s sight.
Vern lays a silhouette on the bank, one eye locked on Jason from resting on his arms. He watches as Jason grabs the fish and turns around, eyes passing Vern. Muscles tense and ready to race up the river and the miles it would take to get back home in an instant. The moment passes and Jason walks up the bank, and back to his camp, safely and unknowingly in the sight of Vern.
Launching back into the water after Vern hears some branch snapping the same direction Tristan went, he recedes to the rocky hiding spot. Watching as Jason stands at the shore trying to figure out what caused that noise. He rests down under the water for a few minutes. Adjusting a belt so a small netted bag runs down his chest. Vern will fill their trap and go home for the evening, it won’t be long before the sun will set and the moon rises.
While Vern hunts to fill their crayfish trap, Jason and Tristan at one point opted for shirtless lounging and fishing. Vern swimming around upstream from and gathered enough crayfish to fill his bag. Vern thought about how they cooked their fish on the fire and how good that must be. Their hammocks seem like they contain the human much more and are super loud… Maybe he would cook some extra crayfish on their remaining fire… After reaching back to his hiding rock Vern looks out to see where the humans are.
Shocked to find that the men are now shirtless on the rocky shore fishing as the sun sets. Vern’s eyes are glued to them. Focused on Jason… their chests were fuzzy and so were their stomachs both men had strong arms and torsos. He could hear Jason complaining about the water being dark now, and that he heard a big splash earlier yet the fish they were catching were so small. Vern wanted to lure him into the water, he knew of the idea of sirens and at this moment wanted to be one. But they could easily catch him and take him away from the water. Also they could stand in this river and be fairly out of it, Vern was content with staying enamored with them from a distance.