It's slow, but it works, his respect simple as it is, to not rush her. Little by little the creature drifts out. Idly waves of its fins to swim down to Silva, slow, discreet, as one animal would to another, to move to its side before its face, polite as its Mistress.

Then brushing the long jaw against the fur, back. Then drifting its way up again, towards Anakin himself.

Little dark eyes peering at him, then darting close, to do as it does with Gilia, curling in against the crook of his neck and nuzzle in with cool fins that softly tickle against skin.

"Sweeting. Polite, please. Have your manners."