Sleeping Dragon as the bone-wrench

A wild  (specifically a guardian) thread appears!

While Gyda was brimming with the pride she felt at the accomplishment that her and Thurin's followers had made, surely the biggest one to date: making their claim upon Sleeping Dragon official, the viking queen understood the simple knowledge that her work had only just begun. Settling on the familiar metaphorical throne was familiar, as was the responsibilities laid out before her paws. The elk they had taken down as their first official pack hunt had filled their bellies and their caches and with this, Gyda was deeply pleased. They were vastly different from one another, from what the shield-maiden could see and yet the fact that they seemed to work well as a cohesive unit did not escape the Scandinavian's notice. This was a very good thing. This made them strong, strong beyond their numbers. Ragnar had taught her that it was the strength of bond that held a pack together and in time Gyda hoped to aid in strengthening these with them. Thuringwethil, too, had her own things to tend too, and Gyda did not mind sharing the burden of leadership with the ebony woman. In fact, she was glad to have the woman by her side.

Her thoughts and thus her attention, shifted back to her patrol, eyes of icy caribbean scanning the land beyond their claim — the free territories that lay beyond for any signs of potential threats.