The Merman, My Man
I grabbed Dicken’s arm, unable to resist turning around to look at Asura and Mary, the latter who was clutching on to Bob and looking at the distant battle with a troubled look, hesitating.
Asura grasped Mary’s hand with his webbed paw just then, and pointed at the cliff where we were standing. We were close enough to them for me to clearly hear Asura imitating Dicken, stammering in inarticulate Japanese, “Mary… We… jump sea…”
Mary did a double take, and stared hesitantly at Asura for seconds and then at me and Dicken. I could see envy and jealousy in her eyes, but I also understood her inner turmoil and unease.