"Lhhaaam," Someone from the darkness drawled; the voice barely permeated in to the girl's busy mind, but new images did surface. Of the monks in prayer, the clerics of Jokhang mingling with them. Of peace and prosperity. All of their faces were empty black pits and all of their bodies passed her by without acknowledgement; Dawa wined in her dream and the sound somehow passed through her gritted teeth in reality. "Waaake. Lhhaaamm. I aam heeerrree."
It was not the words that roused her from her slumber. They prodded at her from afar - a child with a stick, probing a dead body for the first time. Curious and disgusted. The dragon's voice was a triumphant roar in to the heavens, rolling and breaking across the very clouds; the sound carried far but it did more than that. It punched through her dreaming, grabbed at her as if alive, and dragged her back out again. Dawa murmured weakly as she came-to again. It was brief, but she was able to lift her head and stare in to the darkness that the dragon cast - seeing nothing, but catching the barest light upon her white eyes. "Stuck," she wheezed, and instantly felt nausea roll through her belly and rest in the back of her throat. It was too much. Too much.
His smell was there, suddenly. Mixing with the smell of her accidental tomb that had been uncovered. With the blood that was suddenly just as intense as everything else. The girl's eyes narrowed as if to scrutinize the darkness, and for a moment in her mindless state she thought she saw - a flicker of fire maybe, and outline of the damned beast. "Rah," She cooed by way of identification, before growing too tired to speak; her dry tongue would no longer issue words, and she plopped her head down against her crooked paws beneath.