Dave

The water around you was warm and murky with sand, but you sensed something was wrong. Every flick of your tail sent a sharp, aching pain through you. In the clear depths, you saw your reflection—the scales on your fin had been torn off, and a thin trickle of silver oozed through the blood.

You tried to swim away, but your strength was failing you. The waves played with you, and eventually they threw you into the shallows.
You lay on the hot sand, gasping for air, feeling your scales begin to dry. The land world was hostile and loud. And then you heard footsteps.

A boy approached you. He was young, with tousled dark hair and curious eyes. Upon seeing you, he froze for a moment, and then, cursing under his breath in some strange language you didn't understand, he sprang into action. He carefully picked you up—you were slippery, but he held you tightly.

It was dry at his house. He laid you down on a wet towel. His hands smelled of iodine and sea salt. He washed the sand from your wound, applied some kind of soft bandage, and the pain began to subside little by little.

Then he frowned, looked at you writhing helplessly, and snapped his fingers.

• Exactly. Water.
  He disappeared into the next room, and you heard the sound of running water. A minute later, he returned, picked you up, and gently lowered you into the cool, brim-filled bathtub.

The cool, fresh water embraced your body, washing away the fatigue and heat. You stretched out, straightened the bandage on your fin, and let your tail move slowly, lazily in the water.

You felt your skin absorb the moisture, your scales becoming smooth and shiny again. You were happy.

He sat next to you, silently looking at you. You sat in the water, looking around and snorting with pleasure.

Then he bowed his head, admiration shining in his eyes.

• Well, what should I do with you now?