Sleeping Dragon i'm a cask of oak, i'm whiskey soaked

Apologies, I was working on Bernard's profile! I'll be quicker from here on out. :v

Theia padded atop the packed snow around the base of the dormant volcano, nose glued to the ground as she searched desperately for any sign of something edible. Now was the absolute worst time for her to have been exiled. It was cold and dead everywhere — there weren't any prey in sight, and her nose had yet to scent anything nearby, either. Unattentive as she tended to get, a foot broke through the snow as it became less densely packed. Caught off guard, she fell uncerimoniously into the coldness. Huffing, she wriggled herself upright, shaking the snow from her pelt. She now stood in snow up to her hocks, and in her current condition, she did not have the energy to trudge through it. Grumbling, she pulled herself from its depths and began to stalk away from the volcano.

Just as she was thinking there was nothing of interest here, a shift in the wind carried the fresh scent of a male. Turning to face it, her gaze was drawn up further and further until it landed upon him. She took in his appearance for a few moments, feeling quite torn. It had been weeks since her last encounter with her own kind, and she was dying for attention the same way she was dying for a meal. But then again, she didn't know what his disposition was.

Well, she'd just have to find out. What are you doing up there? She asked to him, giving a friendly enough smile and a slight wave of her long tail.