Dragoncrest Cliffs ten thousand miles or more

She smells the thickness of his presence early on and locks on to a trail that ultimately leads to him. It cuts her run short but she can feel the wheeze in her chest, urging her to stop. Her energy increases every day but she quickly depletes it through basic tasks, even more when running at what her current ability will allow as her top speed. Her lungs burn and her legs become tired but she slows to a stop several yards away so that she can spare a few seconds to compose herself. Her steel eyes close for a moment and she takes a few, closed mouth breaths until she’s settled enough not to be totally winded. Still, her sides heave but she’s able to get by with a little panting instead of her usual stoic expression.

Thuringwethil clears her throat before she speaks, taking a deep breath ahead of time. Meeting someone for the first time is always when she wants to be her best self but down nearly fifteen pounds than she should be, she knows she doesn’t meet her full expectation.

“Étoille,” she says carefully, though she is not certain she hasn’t just mangled it. Dio had already informed her of the newest recruit. Normally, her say is final but being unable to lift her head more than a few minutes for a number of days she had to put trust in those meant to have her trust already. The brute is of a good size, which is often impressive enough on its own, and she quickly looks him over before she settles comfortably on his two toned face. For a moment, she wonders briefly if this is how Artaax will look when he is grown.