1 Spawning Season

A lone mermaid called Sea Foam traveled along with only a lazy flick of the tail. She was late, and it was spawning season, but it wasn't really important to her. She had passed her eggs in the privacy of her own home and buried them nearby well enough that no one could find and inseminate them, disguised, as always, by her small garden of unusual stones and coral.

A jellyfish floated past as her hunger only now began to surface. She chased it and caught up shortly. It looked delicious, shimmering and translucent. Sea Foam swallowed it whole.

A distant mermaid communicated greetings, and Sea Foam returned the feeling. It was another pleasant tide and everyone was gathering for the continuation of the species, a festive time. Sea Foam enjoyed the exchanging of gifts, and the news of other sea regions, but not the odd socializing of merthings who only wanted her eggs. They could smell it on her, she knew that, but it would be worse if she still carried them. If not for the overwhelming instinct to go, to travel, to mate, she would have stayed at her abode.

The currents carried her to the eventual destination a moon later, a clear and calm pool surrounded by deep sea grass. She was spawned here. Everyone was spawned here.

She readjusted the jellyfish rations in their shells on her upper body and looked around. A few dozen merfolk had gathered so far, a fraction of what would be. They were avoiding her. She knew why.

Six spawning cycles had passed since the last time she produced eggs, according to their view. It was no wonder she was isolated. Soon enough the newly developed merthings would arrive and, not knowing better, approach her in courting. She entertained them for a while, as it was one of her few past times before everyone returned to their origins or continued to the main community, but they wouldn't get anything out of her and leave eventually.

A communication was projected to the gathered merfolk. The main community had arrived.