Sleeping Dragon in the space between chaos and shape, there was another chance

Though he'd gotten a late start to the day, he’d since woken up fully and found his footing. This time, he’d told himself, he would try harder to not be tempted into the night. When darkness fell over the world and his siblings nestled in together for the purpose of sleeping, he would do just the same, rather than linger in consciousness and eventually wander off. To be up and mobile whilst the sun hung high over his head was something that he missed, and he knew that his time to enjoy it was slowly coming to a close. Hvit couldn’t explain how he knew—perhaps it was the gradual drop in the temperature, or maybe instinct alone kept him informed—he simply did and that was that.

When he’d gone outside of the den, he’d laid down, watching and listening but not yet ready to go anywhere. It was there that he’d remained until Thuringwethil arrived, her visit having then gotten him up onto his feet. The boy went towards her in silence, his tail wagging behind him as a way of greeting. He wondered if she’d be visiting someone at the borders again, and if that was why she was there. Already had he put aside the happenings of his last trip with her, for he’d chosen to move forward and passed it. And so, he’d looked at her expectantly, waiting to see if she might move—and, if so, if he’d get away with following her again.