Working her limbs, the young pup would leap and bound her way from inside the family den to the outside world in a whirl. Her comically large paws would beat against the ground and, still finding pleasure in such things, Thyri would increase the force in which she pressed her feet into the dirt in order to recreate the thudding noise. Her baby blue eyes would dart about, watching as bugs flitted by on rapid wings before they disappeared and left the young dragon pup to wonder how they moved so quickly. Though she tried to keep up, the thrumming of her head had forced her to slow and she gaped her maw in a sleepy yawn that shook her tiny frame.

 

Blinking away the signs of needing a nap, Thyri caught sight of the startling white pelt of her sister. It had seemed as though Freyja was distracted by the sight of a large insect perched against a nearby stone. Thyri narrowed her brows on the bug and wiggled her rump excitedly. With – what she assumed to be – careful precision, the whelp lowered her torso toward the earth and crept forward, hoping not to alert Freyja of her intentions.

Thyri did not have the same amount of respect for the moth that her sister did. She had every intention of springing forward and slapping her paws down on the insect with enough force that it would render it flightless, if only so that she would have her first trophy. Her baby blue eyes glinted fiercely – or as fiercely as was possible – as she inched forward, rump waggling behind her. While she was little more than a month old, the little dragon had every intention of proving herself. She was fierce of heart and quick to throw herself into any situation that would demonstrate such a thing.
 
With a bit of a wobbly step, the youth dove forward toward the moth and opened her tiny jaws in a cry of delight: “hyeah!”