Totoka River cherry soul

Though she couldn't have known his background, and her language was admittedly foreign, the she-ra's tone and manner of gesture brought Teleklos back to the fields of Lacedaemon; where most of his actions had been dictated, and the concept of "free will" had seemed like some distant absurdity. He read her subtle command like a universal sign, and his body started up a mechanical quiver at the chance to simply obey. His ears pressed forward, trying to catch her every word, but alas he could only determine drink.

She only had to suggest he was parched, and suddenly the Lycurgus felt stricken to quench a thirst he wasn't at first aware of. If it had indeed been there at all. He seemed eager only for the ghost of an order— eager to be given a place in life, as he did not know how to make one on his own— and head down, tail swishing, casting her furtive glances, Teleklos loped to the riverside and crouched down besides the churn of ice-water.

He took one or two laps then looked towards the seawolf almost expectantly. I drank, sir. What now?