I'm afraid of your disease

Kevlyn let himself fall to the sand, a rubbery seal flipper falling from his jaws. He grappled at it with his forelegs, growling playfully as he attempted to orient it in such a way that he could chew on its tip. His tail thumped the ground emphatically as he worried his new plaything. The marks of his teeth remained indented in the silky flesh.

Lifting it up in his jaws, he dropped it and stood quickly to pounce upon it, snarling and waving his tail jovially. He flung it this way and that, rejoicing in the nasty slapping sounds it made as it struck the sides of his neck and the ground. He rarely took time from his consort duties—loyal guard of the sirens and their home, and escort to the Siren Queen at times—to play this way, but the weather was lovely, the sky was clear, and there was nothing else to do.