Sleeping Dragon governed by sound reason and true religion

It went unnoticed to Eske if she was the first of her siblings to open their eyes or not — but she was finding that she gave more thought to the other blurred potatoes that she would come to call her siblings now that she could see them. Well, kind of, anyway. Her eye sight was about as good as her hearing which wasn't very yet...but it was definitely there and progressing in the right direction. They could say what they wanted about the youngest — call her the runt, if it so pleased them — but Eske was the spear of the Gods and she had a fight within her that rivaled the mythological beast her home was named for. She was a dragon ...she was a grounder princess, after all. She'd fed until she was full, suckling happily as she kneaded idly at the long and soft fur of her mother's belly. A small comforting gesture. One could only hope that Eske didn't throw a temper tantrum that would put Thor to shame.

She didn't particularly crave attention at the moment and with her belly full of Gyda's milk. Thyri was digging into her and Eske'd had about as much of ugh, cuddling as she could take before she was attempting to free herself from her sister. Eske army crawled her way around the den, careful not to bump into one of the other potatoes as she made her great escape. Admittedly, she didn't get very far for the mouth — such a curiosity to the girl who had yet to walk, or even see to her full capacity admittedly — of the den was blocked by her father. Eske didn't recognize him as such yet but she blinked her milky, blue eyes up at him and squinted. Let me out! She babbled at him, hoping that he understood baby talk better than she understood adult talk.