#...tobirama got so invested in whatever he was doing that he didn't notice the weather change until it was too late

[domoz]

drabble trade with @doveywovy with the prompts "mermaids" and "sharing body heat"

The air hangs still and quiet in the way it only does in the morning after it's just snowed.

Probably, Izuna should be thankful for the unseasonable turn in the weather. The cold has driven witnesses indoors and the usually deadly fauna of the swamp he travels through into hiding. He's never liked weather like this, though. The sharpness of the chill makes his jaw ache, and he finds himself paranoid that somehow his own breath will give him away.

Ice has formed a crust on the sides of his little boat and more forms on his oar every time he lifts it from the water. Soon enough he's going to have to stop and scrape it off, before it makes it awkward to navigate. But he’s hesitant when even the gentle drift of the boat sounds too loud in the silence.

There are rivers and lakes in water country, but not widespread enough to make learning to hide beneath them particularly worth it. Even this swamp is probably only two meters deep in most places -- the canopy of the trees above are so thick that they would make a better hiding spot for nearly anyone looking to ambush him.

That's why he's unprepared for the boat to suddenly be pulled out from underneath him. With the whip-crack speed of a predator springing on its prey, two thick arms hook under his shoulders and pull him backwards. He doesn't fall into the water, but into flesh -- slick and freezing cold.  He tries to pull away, instinctively kicks backwards, but whatever his foot meets is a single solid mass, and all he gets for struggling is flipped onto his back, face forced into the rough wood and freezing cold water that's sloshed over the sides. Even his legs aren't left free as something thick and muscled wraps around them.

Whatever it is that's on top of him isn't human -- but it also isn't trying to kill him, or else it could have done so by now. Instead, one arm -- pale white and scaly when Izuna cranes his neck to see it -- moves to wrap around both of his arms while the other moves to start tearing open his clothes. Icy-cold claws rake down his skin and start going through his pockets, tossing knives and coins and food pills all around the deck of the boat and over the side.

 The thing’s grip has become weaker in the meantime, and Izuna uses the chance to free his right elbow backwards -- it earns him more weight pressed down on him, not less, and an angry hiss.

"What kind of useless human doesn't carry matches?" A deep, accented voice growls out above him, "Or even a flint?"

The only thing that keeps Izuna from responding with 'the kind that can spit fire' is the fact that he can't follow it up with a fireball right in this thing’s face. Which means he has a moment to realize that this thing can speak, and if it can understand him then he has another way to worm his way out of this.

"The warm kind." He answers, as understanding about what's happening clicks into place, "The kind that might help you if you let him up and ask nicely."

He punctuates his point by taking as deep a breath as he can manage in his position and warming it with his chakra as he lets it back out. It turns the air around them into warm steam before it drifts away, and Izuna can feel the muscles wrapped around him clench as the thing hunches over as though trying to capture the heat.

There is a long moment of hesitation, then a sigh through clenched teeth. Weight shifts off of his chest, enough for him to push himself up and turn around, though his legs are still trapped under the bulk of -- yes that's a fish tail.

The creature that's caught him is something out of a peasant fairy tale. Mermaid -- or man, as it were -- the sort of creature that people say lures men to death with its beauty. Izuna supposes he can see where they're coming from -- the physique of the top half is almost improbably perfect -- though the effect is lessened both by the fact that the thing has just mugged him and that he's clearly miserable. The man’s hair and eyelashes are as white as the rest of him but they sparkle with ice, and now that his arms aren't down Izuna's clothes they're crossed over his chest in a hopeless bid to preserve warmth.

"I'll only need you to stay until the cold front is gone." The merman informs him, mouth not quite forming correctly around the words. "Then you can carry on as you please."

Which could be days or even weeks -- plenty of time to find an escape. Or, Izuna blows out another warm breath and stops himself from smirking as the merman can't stop himself from leaning into it, plenty of time to make a new friend.