His dark eyes, as bottomless and deep as the ocean that surrounds them, snap to hers as she makes it known that he had hurt her with his attempts to salvage the one part of her he found beautiful, and his ears flick to nothingness beneath his ivory and seaweed-strewn mane. The calmness he finds at the bottom of their trench (no - his trench, now) begins to ebb away, and his curiosity of the water filly is waning as familiar rage begins to boil beneath his salt-soaked skin. She has turned to look away at the translucent and vibrant squid as they float by, and when she turns to face him he is there to greet her with the same expression of indifference, yet now his eyes are somehow hungry. There is something there, within his body language, that had not been there before.

The fright in her stare fuels him, stirs something within his chest that had been absent until this very moment - she is startled by him now, no longer enamoured by his prowess or abilities, and though naive and young, her wide eyes give him insight to her swirling thoughts - she has made a mistake.

Had they been on land, she would have felt the warmth of his breath on her neck, his heartbeat thrumming wildly through his chest as he realizes he no longer can hold her here without force - he had hoped it wouldn’t have come to this, but the sweet little fool simply is giving him no choice.

Maugrim can feel the water rising to her withers, pulling around him ever so slightly to create the beautiful wings he so desperately craves, and with a glazed look he watches,  his tongue running across his lips at their formation. His brows rise with amusement as she tests them with a few graceful flaps, their current washing over his entire body as he continues to let his power keep him glued to the ocean’s floor.

“The hour grows late … perhaps we should do this another time?”

“Another time?” he says incredulously as his eyes slide to meet hers, wondering if she can feel the tightening of the water around her barrel as he brings her back down into the murky bottom - wondering if it sickens her to realize what she has done, what she has ruined. The trance between them is broken, the idea that she could share the same love for the sea as him now shattered. Perhaps she could learn, he thinks. Perhaps she could learn to be grateful for what he is and what he can show her.

He stares at her for a long moment. She is too young for him to be interested in sex or any other sort of physical relief from his rage, and though murder is an obvious option, she is far too pretty for him to allow to waste away. He thinks about the jelly-fish woman, with glowing tentacles that he had brought beneath the waves. This water-winged child will join his collectibles, he decides, beneath the waves of what others believe are calm and trusting waters. “But there is so much for me to still show you, my dear water lily. That’s what you wanted, right?” A frown finds his terrible face, his eyes glimmering with satisfaction as he bends the water to tighten its grip, fastening around her barrel and legs, slowly applying pressure to her throat, constricting like a snake around her. He watches her ravenously, wondering how long it will take for the girl to succumb to the darkness of unconsciousness. 

“The ocean is a big place...we must get started immediately.”

m a u g r i m.