Totoka River you can be an angel of mercy

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It was her low whine that drew Thexxan’s gaze back to her, albeit with some reluctance. To gaze upon a woman in the Rise was a privilege reserved for the minute before a battle in the arena where death awaited the fallen (for there was only one victor and no surrender) and when they were commanded to look upon them. Even for a Doctore twas a rare command, and only bestowed only to Five who had gazed upon War Queen Quetzalcoatl (Thexxan’s mentor would always be something out of a mythos: a living legend to him). He bit back the laugh that bubbled within his throat, attempting to break free and spill from betwixt his lips as Thexxan watched her spin in an elegant one eighty, evidently confused by his submission. It never broke free, and the chilled silence remained between them. Inferiors did not laugh at their superiors.

The tufted woman did not speak, instead she shimmied nearer until she was stretched out alongside him. To touch! Thexxan’s muscles instinctively tensed at the warmth the streamlined woman offered him was baffling. …Not to mention breaking at least ten rules. Yet, as she had initiated it he did not recoil away from her, wishing to avoid upsetting her. There was no telling what hurting her feelings would earn him, though it had begun to sink into his mind that perhaps she didn’t realize that as a female she was in every way superior to him. Which was a shame. She was an ethereal beauty, unlike any he’d ever seen before with her tufted ears and long fur. Surely a goddess of such elegance and prestige should know her own worth in the world! Curious, Thexxan watched as she piled a bit of snow at his forepaws and on her whuff it spilled over his toes. He wiggled them (as much as a canine can, that is) beneath the fine dusting of snow watching as it melted against the stark ebony of his fur, offering her an amused noise in his throat as he glanced at her as discreetly as he could manage (kind of like a kid peeking over the counter to ensure mum isn’t watching before he sneaks a cookie) to find, curiously, that she seemed bashful despite the stunning intensity of her gaze.

For a moment it constricted his throat, the silent plea that she was attempting to get across. No woman had ever begged him for anything: silent or otherwise. All at once it made him uncomfortable and guilty and he averted his gaze, lowering it from her to his paws before after a few seconds he peeked at her through his lashes. “I’m Thexxan.” He offered her softly. She had yet to breach the barrier of speech with him and he wondered if she was unable to, thus he nervously deigned to fill the moments void of her whines that he — as wolf — understood the gist of well enough with his own vocals all the while hoping that he was not annoying her by speaking. There was a strict rule of thumb in the Rise: males spoke only when spoken to. It was natural for him to feel the need to break said rule but at the same time Thexxan was unable to avoid the slight jitter of anxiousness that followed in the wake of breaking it.

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