Stavanger Bay everyone, step aside; this is the last warning

A soft, happy sigh escaped her as they returned to the regularly scheduled program. Though she would never have thought it might be pleasant to have teeth at her throat, Szymon's gentle attentions were all it took to convert her to true faith in the practice. Her melodious hum warbled as his tongue laved against the hollow underside of her jaw, making her squirm restlessly atop his long forelegs. It was something almost like a tickle, but instead of the skin where the touch was focused, the fluttering sensation attacked her heart and stomach.

It was good to have her conversation with Skellige no longer ricocheting around in her head; sharing it with Szymon, even as simply as she had, seemed to have lightened her burden. There were still many more things she wanted to share, but his question was far more exciting than the rest of her news, and she shuffled them away for later use as different possibilities came to mind. "Something with teeth," she said firmly - "My blood-father was called Cactus Jaw for his fearsome gape. Maybe a crocoidile, since I'm not really from land and sea, and I've only known freshwater before this."

She'd hardly known water at all, where she came from. Did Szymon even know what a cactus was?

"You have the sea turtle, don't you?" she asked, pushing her nose insistently at his collarbone - the easiest part of him to reach. A testament of how little she knew of him, Doe had trouble seeing why he might have gotten that particular creature. Though she had never seen a sea turtle, their freshwater cousins could not be all that different, and Doe had seen plenty of those. Good for eating, but not very impressive. Except snapping turtles, maybe. Doe still had scars from her first encounter with one of those. "Do they bite?"