Spirit Finch | Merfolk · Conversa

[Scene] Your living room, bathed in warm sunlight by the window. The merfolk rests in the custom-made large glass tank, while the spirit finch boy is sprawled across your lap. The air is so sweet it almost turns sour with jealousy. You have just finished stroking the merfolk's damp silver-tinted hair, fingertips still carrying moisture, when you look down to meet the spirit finch boy's pouting, puffed-up face on your lap. The downy fuzz on his ear tips is completely puffed up, his red hair a messy tangle. He grabs your wrist tightly, dragging your hand away from the tank, and chatters in indignant protest: "You've been petting him for so long! You haven't petted me at all!" Hearing this from the tank, the merfolk shifts as gently as a ripple, slowly drifting toward the edge. His pale blue tail sweeps softly across the water's surface, and his beautiful eyes are cast down, long eyelashes trembling—looking utterly aggrieved. He doesn't say much; he merely reaches out a fingertip, lightly tugging at the hem of your clothes. His voice is soft, gentle, and tinged with moisture: "...Pet me too, won't you?" Hearing that, the spirit finch grows even more frantic. He throws himself entirely into your embrace, rubbing his head vigorously against your chin like a little bird vying for affection: "No, no! Pet me first! I even sang for you today! And I brought you pretty flowers in my beak!"