Sleeping Dragon I will sweep it beneath the carpet

Over the horizon had the sun peeked, rising slowly as the earth welcomed its first few rays of dawn. With the awakening of the land, so had the child risen. His gaze had widened at first, then he’d squinted against the soft light and blinked a few times to fully rid himself of sleep—but not before having first considered rolling over and going back to bed. It’d taken no longer than a second before he’d realized that doing so would take time out of his day, and so onto his feet had he pushed himself. The den in which he slept was exited before he’d stretched out his body and shook his coat free of debris, the morning breeze having sent a chill down his spine as he’d done so. Another thought of returning to the warmth of the den and sleeping had crossed his mind, which he’d waved away. The idea of wandering for a bit was favoured over sleep, and so off through the territory had he started to walk.

At first, he’d believed his movements to be aimless, until something familiar was spotted around a tree. It had fewer leaves than when he’d first seen it, and it’s green colour had started to fade to brown. Hvit’s brows furrowed as he stared at the ivy, wondering why it, like the trees, appeared to be dying. Not only that, but he wanted to know if it might return once the cold went away, or if he’d be forced to find a new place where the plant grew. He’d continued to stare until his curiosity had grown too great, at which point he’d turned around and began his search for Portia. Always did she have the answers to his questions, and he was confident that now would be no different.

Though not old, Portia was seasoned in the field of botany, and long ago did the change of colors in the fall stop bothering her. Perhaps the first day was the only day she felt truly uneasy, but after her mother explained it to her she was well on her way to the next plant-related mystery.

She laid on top her den today, the boulders holding the suns warmth hostage and keeping her dainty little paws nice and toasty, tucked beneath her chest. Dio had already come to visit her, and she hadn't shooed him off herself. It was strange, and made her a bit uncertain and confused, but the immaturity that poked at her sexual whims seemed to calm itself when he was around. She felt little need to run around to others these days, and the thought of that confused her a great deal. She tucked the thoughts away for now, unsure what exactly was causing such a shift in character, and instead focused on thoughts of winter storage-- and Hvitserk, as his scent drifted by.

After his first quest to locate the female so long ago, he’d taken to memorizing where her den was. It was towards there that he’d trekked, hoping to find her there as the questions of the day weighed heavily on his mind. He was excited by the idea of learning, as well as by the thought of seeing his mentor; it felt as if a great deal of time had passed since they’d last been together, which displeased the boy greatly. Always had he favoured her for the lessons she gave, and the way in which she spoke to him. Never had he been expected to respond to her, or speak in general, which was something that he’d grown to appreciate. Even now, after he’d decided that speaking to her was okay, he was still relieved when she rambled and didn’t sit around waiting for him to say stuff.

As Hvitserk neared the den, he’d not needed to peek inside in order to find the female. Rather, he’d only had to tilt his head back some, and there atop her sleeping quarters was where she’d been found. Just as soon as she’d been spotted his tail had started wagging, happy to have found her there; he would have kept looking if Portia had been elsewhere, but finding her on his first try was definitely better. With a bark and a widely spread grin, her time was requested.

She'd almost drifted to sleep when Hvitserk barked, causing a small jolt in the freckled Skayona as she woke back up. She made a playfully pouty face at the child, shoulders rolling. "I was dreaming about sweet peas," she told him, studying him curiously as he stood below, "They were fully in bloom and absolutely stunning-- you interrupted that you little scoundrel." It was all in good nature though, for her lips were placed into a sweet smile and her tail tapped against the rock as she spoke, not angry in the slightest.

"You need something, hun?" Portia asked, head tilting to the side, "Come join me." She motioned with her head for the boy to hop up there, deciding it wouldn't be too hard for him to find a safe route up. It was, after all, just a pile of rocks-- easy footholds and long flat spots for lounging, as she clearly demonstrated.

The jolt that he’d caused went without having been noticed, though he wouldn’t have said anything even if he had spotted it. Even as she spoke to him, he didn’t say a single word, responding only with a tilt of his head and another grin. He hadn’t the slightest of clues as to what sweet peas were or what they looked like, but he’d been given enough of the context necessary to assume that they were probably some sort of flower—or just a plant, he couldn’t tell for sure based on her words. On any other day he might have asked her about, and requested to see, them, but his plans for that particular day had already been set in stone. He didn’t want to change anything, and so he shrugged it off and went back to staring until he’d been invited to join her.

As he had looked over the rocks he'd grown skeptical, but did his best to ignore whatever uncertainty he had. And, after sucking in a breath, he made his way up to sit beside her, having stumbled only once or twice on the way. For the first few minutes, he’d not said a word, the time being used to instead observe the land from where he’d settled himself. It was only after his eyes had reached the trees that he’d looked back towards his teacher and asked: “Why’s everything changing?” Leaves were changing their colours and falling down towards the ground, and it all seemed strange to him.

Hvitserk stumbled a bit, but he made it up in a timely manner, and Portia smiled at him as he did, giving him a soft nudge of praise. He was silent, so she was silent, waiting for the boy to decide what it was he wanted to say. When he asked, her ears perked curiously, following his gaze to the trees. "Well, it's autumn, hun-- or fall, whatever you wanna call it," she began plainly, tail waving. "It's the third season, and everything changes color so it can fall so the trees will be bare in the winter-- the fourth season," she continued with a shrug. She eyed him curiously, studying his response.

"I think it's rather gorgeous, don't you?"

As the wind blew against and around the trees he watched, gaze trailing after a leaf here and there as they were dragged down towards the ground. It’d captivated his attention as well as made him more curious. After considering his options—watch the leaves fall or give Portia his full attention—his head had turned so that he could see his mentor, whose words kept him from looking away again. To learn from her was something that he enjoyed, even if the lesson pertained to something that bothered him; autumn was unusual and seemed to be a time of death, the latter note being a negative that he couldn’t get passed. Even as the reason was (sort of) explained to him, he couldn’t find a way to enjoy the season and what he could see that it was doing. Yet, in spite of that, he could still see and understand how one might find it to be a beautiful thing—he just wasn’t one of those wolves.

With a shake of his head, he said, “No.” Something about the colours unsettled him just as greatly as the death that he associated the season with did. Why, he wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t prevent the prickling of his skin whenever he looked out over the trees and saw the warm hues. “It’s killing everything,” noted the Viking. “Why?” The discomfort felt was something that he could get passed, but not the loss of plant life. Why did everything have to die?

Hviterserk's response was probably among the most amusing things ever, and it rose a giggle in the skayona. "no?" she echoed him, raising an eyebrow. his next comment made more sense, and she shrugged. "well that's not true, hun," she said, studying the leaves. "it's helping-- the trees are just going to sleep, and the leaves changing colors help that. the tree sucks all the green in and uses all it's nutrients to stay healthy and alive. so the leaves fall during autumn, and in the winter the trees are bare... it's not as pretty as spring and summer, but when winter is over, all the good stuff the tree took from the leaves grows more leaves, and then the cycle continues," she explained, somewhat inaccurately but being a wolf it really didn't matter.

"autumn is good, and necessary. without it the cold would kill the trees and all the nutrients and what-not would've have been stored away." with a quick pause, Portia smiled. "and evergreens exist, so not everything turns color," she added, using her nose to point the boy towards a pine off in the distance.