Lost Creek Hollow it's the king's turn

“Nice to officially meet you, Root,” Lagon offered in a light tease, making reference to their first “meeting” — though the term was used with an extreme looseness. Lagon was sort of ashamed that he hadn't made it his mission to seek out and, at the very least, introduce himself to his pack mates but he'd gotten caught up patrolling the borders, wanting to be an asset to Lost Creek Hollow as he'd promised Harlyn and Mordecai that he would be. As he'd allowed him to be swept into the flurry of co-rank duties he hadn't taken much time to socialize, as uncharacteristic as it was for the dragon. As it stood he kind of had a one track sort of mind and forgot that he could be an asset to the pack and make it a point to socialize with others, sometimes even at the same time. A pack's bond was supposed to be important and he wasn't doing much bonding if he was losing himself in his own little world of work. 

“I'm Lagon,” He offered his own name, then, omitting that it was a nickname. After introducing himself as “Anacalagon but you can call me Lagon” it began to seem redundant to offer his full name if he would rather just be called “Lagon”. “Definitely!” Lagon responded to her inquiry with a soft laugh, and taking her cue continued on the path his patrol had been taking him, mindful of her presence , making an effort to keep pace with her. A soft shiver rippled down his spine from the chill in the air and he puffed up for a second as he drew in a deep breath and let it out. “Ugh, I kind of hate the cold,”  He offered his stance on winter with a playful grumble, despite that she hadn't asked.