A/N: For blueberrysummers who asked for a prequel to my short merformers ficlet posted over on tumblr.


The waters here were dull and grey, clouded by small particles and penetrated by reaching spears of brownish-green kelp. Everything here was grey or brown, or some combination of the two. Weak rays of sunlight tried to lance down into the murk but only really succeeded in poking feebly, providing a barely-there illumination that only lasted a few metres until it all but faded out. Outcroppings of stone - grey, of course - sat deep in the water like hunched giants, clustered and crammed with shellfish and plant life.

Hunger sat in Prowl's belly like an ice-cold stone. It had been days since he had been separated from his pod. Days since his pod… he pushed the thought from his mind, swallowing the bitter taste that rose in his throat. Hunting alone was hard; with no one to help round up fish it was nigh impossible for him to catch a decent meal, fingers and mouth desperately darting for small flickering shapes that ghosted through his grasping fingers and vanished into the murk.

He had managed to stray well away from his usual hunting routes, swimming blindly in his shock and panic, and the waters here were unfamiliar and strange. It was slightly warmer than he was used to and he recognised none of the rock formations under the water, or even the land he saw on the distant horizon. He stayed well clear of that, and dived deep every time he saw a boat crest the horizon.

When he'd heard the whistling clicking of a pod of approaching dolphins his heart had leapt in giddy joy. Drawing closer, though, he realised had quickly realised they were not the familiar species he and his family had regularly played with. Rather than the familiar black and white panelling he was used to seeing, these were a uniform, pale grey, tending to white on their bellies. Vague memories surfaced of seeing similarly coloured forms when he was younger, but they were faint and painful to grasp at. He was greeted with wary politeness and restrained interest, but when the pod moved off he couldn't quite bear to follow the alien forms.

His meeting with the dolphins had been hours ago now, and he was starting to regret not following them. The grey sea was lonely and the ache in his chest and stomach demanded company and a good meal.

It was also several hours since Prowl had noticed the seal following him.

The seal was not intrusive, but it lingered on the periphery of his vision like a wraith, always just out of his direct line of sight. When he turned in the water, scanning for a silver flash of scales, the seal hung over him, well above him but noticeably close. When he dived to the sea floor to look for crustaceans and shellfish, the seal dived too and twirled itself around the rocky outcroppings, head tilted to watch him as he searched. It poked among the rocks near him, floated along on its back, eyes fixed on him as he searched and occasionally nudged small stones in his direction. When he strayed near a forest of kelp, the seal darted away and began flying in and out of the long strands like a pup playing chase.

It was always in motion, forever darting here or there; twirling along where he could only just see it and never staying in one place for long.

Sometimes it would vanish for a little while and he would find himself half looking for it, only to suddenly catch a glimpse of the sleek form from the corner of his eye, almost as if it was trying to stay out of sight. He was sure it was always the same seal; it was a smooth, dark grey-brown and the almost-white patching that covered its body patterned in a curious band around its eyes, like a mask. When it came close he noticed with shock that its eyes were a brilliant, icy blue.

Being spied on by curious seals was not an unfamiliar experience. By nature seals were inquisitive and relatively friendly, and they would often investigate the presence of mer-folk with an insatiable fascination.

He'd never met one quite this persistent, though. It even followed him to the surface when he breached for air.

It probably hadn't seen many of his kind before, he supposed. This close to populated land there were even fewer mer-folk than in the open sea and probably almost none that looked quite like him. Fruitlessly he hunted on, trying to ignore the ever-present eyes that followed him.

Halfway through trying to pry limpets from their rocks on the sea bed, his desperation leading him to seek out tiny morsels of food, something bright and silver flashed right past his head.

He started at the movement, jerking away in the water frantically and twirling around to find the source of attack, teeth bared, heart hammering in his chest so hard it hurt. Rather than a threat, though, he was confronted by the huge, strangely blue eyes and soft smile of the seal. Turning his head slowly, trying to keep one eye trained on the grey-brown form, he saw the flickering form of a half-stunned fish trailing away from them. Surprised he turned his full attention back to the seal, only to find it had drifted even closer.

The shock of the close proximity made him push back again, scuffing his tail against the rocks he had just been combing. He searched the water around them, but saw no other life, let alone anything that could be considered threatening. Slowly his gaze was drawn to the oddly patterned seal and a strange fear bloomed in his guts; its behaviour had been so odd - was it rabid?

The seal, though, just turned in a slow roll in the water, calmly examining him with an intelligent gaze. Its tail flicked and its flippers tapped lightly against its stomach as it gazed upside down at him only hand spans from his face.

Slowly Prowl floated himself back, his hands braced against the rough stone beneath him as he eased some distance between himself and the seal. It made no move to follow, though, just completed its languid roll and blinked slowly at him. He frowned as it gave a shake of its head and a tiny snort, resulting in an air bubble that rolled from its nose and floated lazily upwards.

"I don't speak seal," he told it in his own tongue of clicks and whistles, though he knew there was no point in even talking to it. Had he reached that level of desperation for interaction already?

The seal - as predicted - simply blinked its oddly coloured eyes again, tail and flippers flowing in the water, then turned in a sudden swish that had Prowl jerking backwards once again and throwing up an arm to protect his face.

When he brought his arm down to look, the seal was gone and he was once again alone in the murky waters.

It was a while, the whole time spent searching the rocks and crevices for anything that might be hiding, before the seal returned. It approached from the front this time, swimming slowly as if Prowl was a frightened pup, a fish clamped in its jaws.

The seal glided closer, rolling playfully in the water in the same way as before. Prowl watched it, wary. A big bull seal like this one could do plenty of damage to a mer like him, and alone with no one to come to his aid he was especially cautious about getting into any kind of trouble.

Seeming to sense his apprehension the seal slowed, dark eyes trained on him. It flicked its tail, gently swaying from side to side, almost rhythmically, and then it… unraveled.

Prowl's eyes widened so far he almost thought they would fall right out of his head. The seal's skin seemed to peel away, opening and flowing in the water. It was terrifying, and it was beautiful. The dull grey-brown of the seal twisted and curled away, revealing an inner skin mottled with the same spotty pattern as the external one. Flicking flippers and tail turned easily into slender legs and feet treading water and a hand reached up to snatch the fish from a mouth that was still a muzzle just as the skin began to pull away from its head and neck.

When the surreal transformation was over Prowl was left staring in frozen horror at a man. His dark skin was mottled with lighter spots, like large freckles, and a curious band of pale skin ran across his startlingly blue eyes. From his shoulders, held closed at his throat - though by what Prowl could not see - a sealskin fanned and curled in the water like a thing alive; not flowing with the current but coiling against the man's body and limbs as if trying to grasp hold.

The man - the selkie, Prowl told himself, awestruck eyes still glued to the strange creature - gave a tentative grin, flashing teeth that were not quite flat enough to be human, and held the fish out with both hands.

Never in his entire life roaming the seas had Prowl laid eyes upon a selkie. He had heard tales of them, stretched out next to his mother in a sheltered section of water where the current was negligible and a young mer could drift off to sleep with fantastic stories ringing in his ears, but never so much as suspected the stories could be true. They were said to be rare and secretive, living alone amongst true seals and only seeking out a mate a few times in their long lives.

He remembered clicking and whistling in the waters next to basking seals, watching them lumber from rock to sea and back again and earnestly watching for the slightest hint of a mythical creature that he would never find.

So caught up in his shock and awe at seeing a creature he had thought to not exist, he hardly noticed the selkie slowly drifting closer until his vision was filled with a forward thrust fish. Blinking he pushed up enough on his arms to peer over the silver animal only for it to be shoved forward again.

"For… me?" he clicked hesitantly, trying to slowly turn himself so he wasn't practically lying on his back.

This received a blank look, and the selkie bounced its hands gently, insisting.

Right. It was doubtful a selkie who lived among seals would speak North-water dolphin. Prowl repeated the phrase, this time pointing to the fish and then to himself. An emphatic nod answered him and grinning wildly the selkie urged forward, one hand letting go of the fish to mime eating with enthusiasm, pointed teeth gnashing on nothing but water.

Still a little hesitant, Prowl reached for the fish, only for it to be thrust into his hands with vigour. The selkie twirled in the water - surprisingly agile in its humanoid form - around the black and white mer as Prowl lifted the fish to his mouth, aching stomach putting paid to any lingering doubts. The strange, life-like skin fanned out, almost brushing him as the flavour of freshly caught fish absorbed his whole attention.

An embarrassingly pup-like chirp escaped him as he wolfed down the meal, tiny bones crunching between his teeth and a small cloud of pinkish blood briefly blooming then dispersing. The last bite disappeared down his gullet before he even had time to feel guilt at his slovenly manners, and he even licked at his fingers for any remaining scraps of fish, though the selkie didn't seem to mind. It still twirled around him in the water, its sealskin cape almost a partner in its dance and a wide smile fixed on its strangely patterned face, clearly delighted that Prowl had accepted the gift.

A little of the ache Prowl had grown used to hosting in his chest eased as he watched the graceful form of the selkie bob and twirl around him. He perched back against the rock he had been searching on, idly picking up a limpet he had managed to dislodge and sucking on the contents.

His eyes only half watched the selkie as it continued to dance, apparently lost in its own enjoyment of being free to move. In his own mind the ghosts of his pod played around him, calling and -

And a brown face pushed its way into his immediate line of sight, blowing bubbles that brushed softly over his cheeks. Rapidly pulling from his reverie, Prowl blinked away the stinging sensation in his eyes and focussed on the selkie. It hovered only inches away, hands raised as if to reach out and touch the mer's face. Belatedly Prowl realised it had a soft fuzz of hair on its head that floated in the water and swayed with the current. The revelation made him smile, humour sharply cutting through his momentary grief. The selkie grinned widely back in reply.

Another burst of bubbles accompanied a deep clucking sound from the selkie, its face comically questioning. Prowl quirked his lips down and shook his head, shrugging his shoulders and hoping it would understand.

The selkie responded with a roll, arms spread wide and a look of deep thought on its expressive face. It stopped on its back, legs slanting up and sealskin flowing wide around it like it lay on the sea floor. It pointed up towards the distant surface of the water and the rapidly changing light colouring the space above them.

"You want to go up?" Prowl asked, then cursed himself for trying to speak like it was a member of his pod.

Those odd blue eyes fixed on him and the selkie jerked its finger again towards the sky. With a kick of its legs it pushed upwards, pausing to look down at the mer after a few strokes. Prowl gazed up at the figure silhouetted against the brightness of the surface, its sealskin cloak fanning wide in the water around it as it gazed down at him, face hidden in shadows. Slowly a hand extended downwards, reaching for the black and white mer. Prowl hesitated only a moment before propelling himself upwards with a powerful flick of his tail.

They raced to the surface, the selkie twirling around and around Prowl's sleek form as he swam. With its four limbs and humanoid form it could nowhere near match the mer's top speed, so Prowl obligingly slowed a little to avoid leaving it behind. This seemed to amuse it and it followed with the same wide grin, skin brushing lightly against Prowl's own as it twirled close.

When they breached it was to a sky bright with colours; clouds catching the rays of the fading sun and sending burning pinks across the clouds. Prowl took deep breaths, rolling in the water in mimicry of the selkie as it made an odd movement, lifting its legs to lie on its back and drift on the surface of the sea. It stared up to the stars, then made an odd noise.

The sound was completely different to the deep snorts and eerie notes seals usually made, but was nothing close to the whistles and clicks Prowl and his pod spoke with. It was a soft noise, just hardly audible over the rush of the waves and was accompanied by a hand reaching up towards the faint pinpricks of stars beginning to reveal themselves in the blue deepening the sky. Prowl stilled in the water, tilting his head as he listened to the strange sounds. The patterns were regular, so presumably some kind of language but none he knew or recognised. Turning its head towards him the selkie stopped talking, its expression hopeful though that faded quickly when it took in the curious cant of the black and white head. It rolled onto its front, treading water as the shape of the sealskin made an even blacker patch on the already darkening sea.

As the selkie slowly drew close, Prowl felt a slight wariness rise in him again, unsure of its intent. He forced calm, staying as still as he could in the bouncing waves as the selkie reached out and took his hand, turning it over in its own slim fingers and brushing lightly on the thin membrane that ran between the lower halves of Prowl's digits. It made the same strange noise again - a question, Prowl thought - but he could give no answer except shake his head in confusion.

The hand holding his gripped and gave a surprisingly strong pull, bringing them closer in the sea. Suddenly Prowl was all too aware of how slim and small the selkie's humanoid form was, less than three quarters of his own length and nowhere near as thickly insulated, and idly he wondered if it was cold, or if its cloak kept it warm. He wondered how he could possibly have been afraid.

A leg bumped against his tail, bringing him back to the present moment; a sea steadily being consumed by darkness, fire burning on the very edge of the sky and a hand gripping his, small body close. The selkie whispered something softly, so quiet Prowl could hardly pick out the precise sound, but the tone was gentle and kind. Its face was hidden in shadow, the faintest suggestion of a smile written across its dark features.

As the sun sank below the horizon Prowl gratefully clung to his new companion and warmth blossomed in his chest as lips pressed softly to his cheek. Surprise hitched his breath but he found that he didn't want to pull away. They lingered there for a few moments, soft and firm as the selkie's slender chest bumped against Prowl's own. When it drew away it affectionately nudged its nose against his cheek and again warmth bloomed, but this time spread up his neck and face in a rushing heat. The slender limbs of the selkie bumped against his underside with the bob of the waves and fresh, clean air filled his lungs, dispelling the blush from his face. He squeezed the hand he held tightly, almost afraid to let go of the mythical creature lest it fade away.

When the selkie pulled from his grasp, though, it didn't fade. It twirled around him a few more times in the now darkness, then beckoned him to follow. With stars winking into existence in the night sky, Prowl followed.


A/N: Hope you enjoyed! If I ever write more selkie!Jazz and mer!Prowl fic it will probably be collected here, but since nothing is planned this will always be marked as complete. Thanks for reading!