Blackfeather Woods the gull’s way and the whale’s way

Thank you for the thread, Meebee! Feel free to have Nyx avoid the last sentence. ♥

A lifetime of meticulously attentive servitude made it easy for Coelacanth to move in tandem with the speckled minx; she moved when Nyx did, stopped when Nyx did, and always kept the tapered tip of her muzzle in line with the angle of Nyx’s elbow. They moved as one, being and shadow, and despite her predicament the sheepdog craved companionship on such a deep level that she easily fell into the rhythm of being led. Something inside her relaxed, although her wound-wracked form was still wrought with tension, but when it came time to part from the bewitching lady of the wood, Coelacanth hesitated. Her psyche was prime breeding ground for Stockholm syndrome to take root, and as this was the first overture of kindness she’d experienced since being reunited with Komodo in the early spring, it was all too easy to look upon Nyx and wonder if staying with her, serving her, would really be so bad.

Komodo!

It was the brief, fragmented memory of the angakkuq that ultimately saved her — not any particular string of words or fondly recalled tableau, but a simple feeling of urgency that drove her on. When the territory borders came into view, she turned to the inkstained angel and made to kiss her mouth, tapered muzzle gliding upward from her low-slung state to nibble in submission and gratitude along the strong, dark jaw if Nyx would allow.