One-Shots [Boboiboy]

Ocean Eyes [Part 2]

Sirens never liked cold places, which was why they had never seen a Siren up close before. The only times he would manage to catch a glimpse was when the pack migrates for a new home, and snag a few Sirens or mermaids on the way for the thrill. Other than that, there were no remote methods of witnessing a Siren personally.

Especially Slyrens.

* * *

"Can you talk?"

...

"No?"

...

"It's alright! We can communicate with charades!"

...

"I'll go first!"

...

"Can't you see I'm trying to tell you my name?"

...

"Oh, right. I can just tell you. Haha, my bad!"

...

"Eh? Why are you walking away? Aren't we friends?"

* * *

Freezing water brushed through the currents, the icy touch deflected from his skin's receptors. His albino hair danced in the water, tips flaring behind, he swam deeper into the caverns.

His fin flowed like a tidal wave, with the precise stance of a whip, snappy and everlastingly consistent. Pale arms pinned safely by his side, his head was facing the currents, scarlet eyes studying the dark, murky depths of the ravine's edge.

He knew he saw her somewhere before.

Coming to the end of the fissure, his fin propelled upwards abruptly, sending him into a 90-degree arc towards the surface, beams of sunlight penetrating the sapphire ocean waters. He thrust his arms above him, his body picking up the water pressure decreasing as a white glow enveloped his tail, and he broke into the surface, his body curved like a dolphin's.

His fins melded into strapped slippers, his scales shifting around his upper body that formed a cloak, tunic and pants. His gills sank, and were replaced by humanoid ears, the tips and feet tainted silver. The base of twin limbs landed on the sand, grains brushing his new humanoid toes.

Cyclone's lips parted, and he allowed the unfamiliar air breathe through his mouth, the warm afternoon air gracing his throat and tongue. He shuddered, not used to the change of pace. He closed his mouth as he adapted to breathe through his nose, since there were no more fins to rely on.

He wiggled his toes. Sand had gotten into his sandals, and he did not enjoy the peculiar sensation. It resembled Thorn sneaking eels on his seat. The infuriating thing would always manage to hinder his depressive episodes.

A warm breeze shifted through the air, the wind kissing his skin. Warm currents were so much different, because once it's gone, the area that it had abandoned will freeze. They were unlike breezes, which would gift him a small afterthought of warmth.

His neck craned farther into the surface's land. Slyrens and Sirens alike would wither if they departed from water for too long. He decided that he would not want a fate like that, but whatever he's looking for, it's at the very centre of the surface world.

Should he take the risk? He did not belong here—at least, not anymore. He belonged to the sea, the crashing waves of the ocean, the mysterious depths of the maritime. The surface may have once been his home, but it was only a title, somewhere he was born, not where he belonged.