Sleeping Dragon somewhere a bloodmoon hangs in the sky

The gathering was losing its interest for the young girl. While the new faces offered her a moment of excitement, there was very little that she could actually do with them. The young stormchaser was curious, though. She tiptoed out of her position and peered upward at the wolf who was speaking to Freyja. The fiery fur of the woman was incredible, and Thyri wished that her coat would take on such a coloration. Because she had no real skills in social interaction, the young dragon inserted herself into their conversation without much call. She did not want to be left out. Not to mention, Thyri felt a strange protection over Freyja - something she could not explain. 

"Are you a Guardin'?" the girl inquired with a slight tilt of her head. She was not the best with words in the common tongue, but it was a decent attempt at the skill in question. In the stormchaser's eyes, the title of Guardian was of the highest kind. She aspired to claim the rank herself when she grew older, and she was keen to prove that she was more than capable.