Sawtooth Spire glazed eyes, empty hearts

He was fire, she was ice. They were a peculiar match, one not many would have guessed at, but one that functioned well. He was perhaps one of the few people that could provoke any thought in her at all. And she perhaps one of the few that could make him fuel his fire faster, creating the ambition in him that brought him to her side. He was independently a good leader; together, they made a great team.

As they aggressively canoodled one another via bites, snarls, and the like, Tonravik would pause as he administered more gentle tactics and would nuzzle into it. Once, she tried to reciprocate the gentleness, but it was still quite rough despite that. His kisses upon her cheeks were responded in kind, but then a gentle nip toward the nose. Tonravik was still upon her hinds and paused to rest her soaked chin atop his crown, the sound of their splashing no longer heard... only the pouring of the water from the mouth above them into the waters they stood. Another fish flipped through the air to join them.