Seeing that the human was close to passing out, the merman sped up. He could swim at breakneck speeds if he wanted to, but he had a feeling that would nauseate the human on his back. So, he kept it reasonable.

He reached the small island rather quickly this way. Naturally, it was crowded with sea birds on one side. He swung around to the side that was empty, save for a few stragglers, and he set the human down on the sand, waiting for him to pull himself up. Now that he was in the shallows...it was much easier to see how he really looked, tail and all. And he was much closer than he had been before...

Darren soon felt land and sand against him. He squirmed like a drowned animal until he was fully onto the sand, then he forced himself to sit up. He swayed slightly, but seemed a bit more responsive. He noticed he was on the shoreline as well, and he studied the full appearance of him. It was amazing, and he would be awestruck if he wasn't dizzy with fatigue. He gave him a thankful smile before laying onto his back and closing his eyes.

At this point, he wondered if he would wake up from his dream. He was losing hope in that too. The sand felt too real, and so did the heaviness of drenched clothes. He pushed away sleep and sat up with a groan under his breath. He might as well probably meet his only company. "Do you have a name? I'm Darren."

The merman watched him flop around, resisting the smile that wanted to crawl onto his face out of amusement. Humans believed they were high and mighty...but the moment they weren't in control, they seemed to lose confidence without even knowing it...

He perked up when the human talked to him, revealing his name to be Darren. An odd name to him. Some merpeople had names similar to those of humans...and some were completely off. His was a bit similar.

"...Léandre."

He pushed wet and sandy strands of hair from his face and nodded at the name. He was about to comment on how the name fit the person, but he kept himself quiet. Now was not the time for petty compliments. He shifted so his legs crossed Indian style in front of the merman. He felt awkward at this point. His mind was racing, he would panic if he could, and he was sitting in front of an once in a life time situation.

"Thanks again.." He mused weakly, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Do you know how far actual land is? With buildings and people?" He didn't want to sound like he was trying to talk to a five year old, but Darren was trying his best to make this easy for Léandre to understand.

Léan cocked his head to the right, puzzled. Did he mean the big areas of land, rather than islands? "Far," he replied, solemnly. "Island, people...fif...fifty miles...southwest. Closest people..."

His English was all right...just a bit off from his years of not speaking it. He seemed to feel very awkward in his current situation, as did Darren. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, which managed to stay sort of fluffy even though it was still wet. It billowed out underwater like a white-blonde cloud.

Darren groaned at the words. He was far from home. Way too far. How in the world was he getting back? He let his weak body lay onto the sandy floor, and he closed his eyes tiredly. His body was urging him to lose consciousness, so laying there made it a battle to stay awake. His clothes made him shiver as if he was back underwater, and his head continued to throb.

He tried to sit up to speak more to the merman Léandre, but he did the exact opposite. His mind and body finally gave up and he lost consciousness in almost an instant sleep.

Léan blinked, peering over him closely to make sure that he hadn't fallen over and died. When he assured that the human before him was still alive, he turned and slid back out into deeper waters. He was sure that the human had to be hungry. He was going to go hunting for food, for himself and for the human.

He was out for a long while, a few hours, before he returned to the island with a large tuna fish. He'd eaten a fish himself, and now he had one for Darren to eat. He hadn't killed it yet--it was squirming to escape. Fresh fish was always the best. He would end its life once Darren woke up and decided whether or not he wanted it.

As uncomfortable as the floor was, Darren slept still and quiet for about as long as it took for Léandre to hunt. He was snapped back to reality once he heard the splashing sounds of swimming. He had woken more sore than he had fallen asleep to, and his eyes were heavy. Maybe sleeping was a bad idea after all. He placed his hand gently on his head as if to coax the throbbing away, then he sat up slowly.

In front of him was Léandre, then a flopping fish. He blinked in surprise, not sure why there was a fish in front of him. Then it registered to him. Léandre had gotten food for him. Yet, it was alive.. and not cooked. He could have sworn he heard stories about people getting sick from uncooked fish. He shook his head and spoke in a friendly but dismissing voice. "I'm not very hungry...thank you though." This could very well be a lie, but if he was desperate he could search the small island he was on for some sort of fruit. He moved to his knees then decided to test his standing abilities.

Léan shook his head, and then pointed to the small bit of forested area that was on the island. "Fire," he said, simply, as he grasped the tail of the tuna to keep it from getting away. If he had a fire, Darren could cook the fish. He knew humans were fond of cooking their food...something he didn't quite understand. Merpeople ate raw fish and the meat of other marine creatures, as well as sea plants.

He wasn't sure if Darren could manage to make a fire...but if he could, it would keep him warm at night and give him something to cook food with.

Darren was about to take a step when he heard the word fire. "Oh.. Duh!" He chuckled lightly, the first true laugh he's produced since all of this. He stood hesitant steps to the woods until he got to just the outskirts. He didn't want to go far, and he felt a longing to keep close to Léandre. He wasn't sure why, but maybe because he was his only safety or human contact in the middle of the ocean on a secluded island.

He picked up a few dry sticks and made his way back to the spot he was laying down. He positioned the sticks in a tent-shaped fashion then frowned. How was he going to light this? He frowned in slightly stupidity, wondering if Léandre thought he was being idiotic.

Léan rubbed his hands together quickly, to simulate friction. Friction with hard surfaces, such as stones or even rubbing two sticks together, would create sparks...and would set the pile of sticks aflame. As long as the stones or sticks were dry, of course.

He only did this for a moment before reaching behind him and grabbing the tail of that poor fish once again as it tried to escape. He seemed amused by its efforts. Tuna was his favorite food.

Darren studied this action and nodded in understanding. He grabbed two of the sticks from this fire and sat on his knees. He place one end of the first stick in the middle and started rubbing it against the second. It was instantly tiring, but he kept going until small sparks started to flicker. Soon a tiny flame formed and he smirked. "Got it.."

He set the two sticks on top and waited for the fire to grow. He watched Léandre play with an escaping fish. He started to think about what life must have been under water. He probably couldn't survive whatever life the merman was living.

Léan dipped the fish underwater and silently killed it. He fished out a sharp rock from underneath the sand and washed that off, holding it out to Darren along with the fish. The rock, sharp at one end and dull at another, was meant to act as a knife so he could skin and maybe take the organs and bones out of the fish, leaving himself with the meat.

He himself ate everything but the bones of the fish. It was nutritious, and tasty to merpeople. Cooked food, well...he had never had it. After all, fire did not work underwater.

Darren shifted to a more comfortable position and accepted the rock. He held it awkwardly in his hand for a moment, peering at Léandre questioningly. He wasn't sure if he knew how exactly to gut a fish, but it was worth a try. Using the strength he had gathered from the small nap, he stabbed the fish with the sharp rock.

He flinched gingerly at the sight as he worked to take out all the inedible things that were nestled inside the fish. He then used the rock to cut the meat in small pieces, so it would be easier to cook with. All the while, he tried to talk to Léan. "What's it like in the ocean?"

Léan watched him work with curious eyes, noting that he did, as he'd heard in school, take out all of the organs and get rid of the skin and bones. Humans wasted so much food...

He didn't comment, however, and simply continued to watch. Upon hearing his question, he perked up slightly, and then frowned as he slipped off into thought. "...Nice...?" He had lived in the ocean all his life. It was nothing special to him.