Totoka River Hold my hand, it's a long way down

[table width=72%][tr][td]

He basks under her observation, casually peering away so that she might think he is unconcerned for a time. His banner trails in the water, limp and floating— threatening to be carried off by the current if he isn’t careful— but his focus had shifted entirely onto sating his abundant thirst, and the only thing to still him was her voice.

Grievous picked up his head abruptly, turning his long, dripping snout towards the wild girl so that he might take her in again. It was clear from his expression that she had even caught him off guard; his brows lifted to expose hawkish eyes, that traced her in naked ambition. He sees something there now, that he hadn’t bothered to notice before, and with his assumptions of her now shattered by the simple fact she’d called out to him, the iron gatekeeper now found himself invested in this particular situation.

The basilisk was slow to respond— deliberate, more like. He touched his tongue to sodden whiskers before he spoke, meeting her caramelized gaze evenly, without challenge. “Hail, wildheart,” he said in quiet command; his voice like distant thunder, declaring a decree of her spirit she would never be able to shake. Grievous eyed her for what seemed to be an eternity before he moved, surprisingly not towards her. In fact, his direction was diagonal, angled at the bank and away from her as if he intended to leave. Exiting the shallows, the titan gave himself a shake, and then flopped down on the ground facing the girl.

Languid and sphinx-like, he pressed his ears towards her, and beckons her nearer with the benign thumping of his wet tail on the ground behind him. He’s chosen this position because he does not fear her. She is small and cautious, while he is proud and  misogynistic; but mainly because he knows he’s less intimidating without his staggering height. “I swear thee no harm,” he rumbled without preamble. “Come nearer, so that I might smell thee properly.”

[/td][/tr][/table]