"Sigh! I wonder how she's doing right now. What about her mangled hands? Are they any better? And her shoulders, are they healed? Has she eaten anything? Is she surrounded by mers? Did she forget about us or does she think of us all the time. If she does, does that mean she misses us? Is she starting to fall for our charm?"
Dylan sat on the sofa with his legs propped on the table, wiggling his foot like it could shake answers out of the air.
He wore a big blue jersey top and white pocket shorts. His short hair was tied in a funny little ponytail that stuck up at the back. He looked tiredly at busy Cassen, who hadn't glanced up from his laptop in ten minutes.
"I say, Cassen, do you think wife's wounds have already healed?" he asked, stretching the words out like he was testing how they sounded. He knew he was bothering Cassen with his questions, but who coul help?
