Sleeping Dragon spooks come out for a swinging wake

"I know all the ranks," Portia beamed, though that was hardly an accomplishment, "And bluma, is kind of a word for plants-- I think." She paused briefly, trying to put something together in her head before she let out a breathe. "Ai laik Portia, Skayona kom Drageda... uh.. shopta?" she asks, tail waving. She's pretty sure that's the right greeting, and is pretty proud of herself in this moment. 

Freyja brightened at Portia’s words, all the more happy to have a distraction from everything that had happened with Goliath earlier that month. She sought out the pack’s members now and this meeting with Portia was just what she needed to escape for a little bit. “Os job!” She praised calmly, her eyes shining despite his composed disposition. “That means good job, by the way. Something to add to your list of phrases.”

Portia beamed, pleased that she had in fact said the right phrase, and was excited that Freyja had praised her for it-- being praised by a child, how amusing. It was still exciting nonetheless, and her tail beat against the ground happily. "Thanks, hun, I'll remember that," she said, smiling brightly at the goufa.

With the praise given and received, Freyja waved her tail. “Hey,” she brought up suddenly, feeling a certain sense of hunger come upon her. “You want to go get food together?” When Portia accepted, Freyja lead the way, her limp strengthened thanks to the ginger. They would spend a good majority of that day together and when Freyja departed she felt happy, as if nothing was wrong in her world.