The Sentinels Bravery only means something to those afraid of death.

Raleska would have understood Dacio's plight -- for not so long ago, she had gone through it herself. Her entire life, her identity had been RUSALKAN. Her cornerstone, RUSALKA.

CAIAPHAS.

To suddenly be untethered, unmoored -- it was as if her reality had detached, leaving her no frame of reference in which to base all of her past thoughts and perspectives. As if her perception was suddenly untrustworthy, viewed from a different angle.

Dacio moved in. Raleska felt her belly tighten as flames licked past it; his cheek brushed against her muzzle, bringing a kaleidoscope of previously unknown sensations thrumming to life. She had never been touched gently -- not by her mother, not by her father -- this new sensation sent her skin crawling out in ripples.

She gasped softly, taken aback by the gesture. Dacio had only just touched the surface of the pool that was her need for physical affection, and now, what had previously been tranquil surface was oddly disquieted. By hormones, or by genuine need to feel validated, Raleska nosed along his muzzle in turn, her muzzle tracing like exploratory finger-tips the alien landscape that was his face and the scars pocked within.