Sea Lion Shores swimming in the deep end

Another starfish. It was wedged between two other useless things, but she lowered herself into the water nonetheless. She might have drowned and been none the wiser to her own plight, except for the numbness that crept to her head that alerted her to something strange. But there was no burning in her lungs that would force her to withdraw. No sign of asphyxiation—only the first of the many phases of drowning—to be seen. It was not that she was talented at holding her breath. It was that she suffered from congenital insensitivity to pain. That this was not normal was something she had learned quite early on in her life. It was a wonder she lived so long, but she had withheld from doing anything too stupid. Tiamat had others for that. 

And they all died for her, the poor things. What had been their names? None stood out.

It was the others monstrous-sounding stomach that alerted the lone wolf to his presence. Her soaked face painted her in a less than pretty light, and suns glare upon her face illuminated that fact as she scowled hideously, looking much like an accosted pufferfish. Tiamat clutched the thing between her teeth (whose arms moved minutely; she could feel the thing try to walk within her mouth, blech). She dropped the thing at that instant though possessively placed her paw atop it. "Get! Scat! This is mine," but Tiamat side-stepped, ready to flee from the spot if she must. She wasn't much of a fighter, truth be told. Even if she could not feel any pain, she preferred to utilize that for things that yielded results that meant being admired by another for some unearthly power.

Which it wasn't. But most could be convinced.