Do you wonder how it might feel? Having a tail slowly drawn out from a small nub, acquiring sharp bits and proper covering as the limb is pulled and shaped and refined like a clay model, carefully sculpted into being by the careful talons of a much larger dragoness, cooing over her 'work of art?'
The sensation of the malleable substance is dulled, subdued, but you can feel her pulling against it, drawing the mass longer and thinner out behind you. The points of her claws gently score the surface of your faux tail, inscribing patterns with pleasant jolts and steady pressure dragging across its surface. You take a sharp, startled breath when she goes back to where it meets your body, developing the join and ensuring it blends properly into your form.
Her fire gives the appendage proper color, fuses it to your body, causes the muscle to kick-start and the nerves to carry their clearest tender messages yet across your spine. You flick and swing your tail as pins and needles tap-dance across each precious centimeter, and then you can feel the whole of the limb: tightly coiled muscle with a soft touch of padding, adorned in finely glimmering gemstone hues. You can feel it like no phantasm ever before, a weight and mass that disturbs your balance with each instinctive sway, a presence that smarts when you smack it against the ground by accident; a dream made impossibly real.
It's perfect. If you glance up at your 'artist' with pleading eyes, she laughs with a deep rumble and rolling trill. She's got a lot of work to do, but if you let her plan it out it'll all be like this.
