#fml fr

[Image ID: A cropped screenshot of part of a fic in a writing app. The fic is in a folder labelled “Drafting” and the word count shown in the upper right corner is 6,122. The text reads:

Wally presses himself close to the rock, still peeking over the top but minimising the threat he presents. He’s still clinging to a rock face, and his hands are starting to cramp painfully, but there’s not much he can do about that. He turns his voice from talking-to-an-injured-party soft to talking-to-a-scared-puppy soft.

“Hey, buddy,” he says. “How’d you get up here, huh? Did you get swept in? You must’ve been stuck for hours.”

The mer tilts its head. Its eyes, darkly reflective, are wide and uncomprehending. It’s a gorgeous animal, even mostly hidden in shadows as it is - Wally can see only hints of a lithe, lean masculine upper body, and most of its dark tail is concealed, but he can see something gleaming even deep in the shadows. Looks like it might be long enough to form a coil, judging by the positioning. He’ll have to be careful, in that case. He’d rather not get squeezed to death while trying to play search and rescue.