Totoka River you can be an angel of mercy

Falling asleep! If the powerplay is not okay, let me know and I will change it when I wake up.

Coelacanth waited patiently for the pieces to settle into place, and when the inevitable question finally came — “You don’t speak, do you?” — her expression grew sheepish. Her “no” was in the way her glimmering Neptune gaze dipped away from Thexxan’s to focus with tremulous shyness upon her feathered toes — in the eloquent shake of her finely-sculpted head — and in the bashful smile she offered him as her sumi-e brush tail scribbled an apology in the snow at her hindquarters. Eager to appease him, she shimmied nearer still, and her expression was patently good-natured as she sought to touch him for the first time.

Izel, he named her, and her tail conjured a miniature tornado of crystalline powder in answer. Her eyes, warm and limpid and trusting, swept curiously over the tall, long-legged male’s prone form and settled with lingering diffidence upon his striking visage. His insistence in remaining subservient to her both confused and dissatisfied her — there was potential for greatness in the marrow of his bones; she could sense it! — for she read within it a refusal to accept her own desire to worship and obey. Forced out of her comfort zone, the tiny sheepdog leaned forward to press the wet of her nose softly against the fur of his cheek, imprinting his flesh with her scent. An airy whuff soothed the chill of her touch as she aimed her sights lower and traced his chiseled jawline with the tip of her tongue, tufted, elongated ears folding demurely against her crown.