Blacktail Deer Plateau Will of the dragon

Within the deep recesses of her mind there lingered a voice, one that was soft yet determined and unwilling to let her forget of its presence. It urged her to abandon whatever task she'd set out to complete, acting as the voice of reason to counter the burning initiative nestled within the marrow of her bones. The voice was her own, her conscious and logistical side, while the other belonged to none other than Draco himself. Since leaving home and setting out on her own, it seemed as if his presence had grown within her, occasionally finding a way to pressure her into doing his bidding—an act that would cause the mediums before her to look upon the girl with shame-filled eyes. All her life thus far she'd been taught the ways of her people, as well as the manner by which she must live in order to keep the unruly dragon in check. Those lessons had been engraved into her mind and forced to make up her very existence, yet, for some reason, she found herself being controlled by someone—something—other than herself. On her own, she never would have pursued the trail of a deer, knowing the risks to be far too great, but then there she was performing that very act.

As she pressed onward, her steps seemed to grow lighter and lighter until one might need to strain their ears in order to pick up on her approach. She was away from the boy, away from all those she knew, which disallowed for her youthful side to take ascendancy. The cloak which was her ethereal self shrouded the yearling, filling her with an energy forged from the purest of elegance. However familiar the sensation that filled her was, she knew it not to be herself, not truly. It was the will of the greater dragon that controlled her, forcing her to perform this and that as if she were some puppet dangling from threads. She resented the feeling, the loss of control. It was her own fault that things had gone so far, and she knew for that she would someday pay the price. Perhaps after death, or possibly before, but either way the debt would be settled. There, her thoughts had been interrupted, pulled towards something anew when an aroma other than that of the deer slithered its way into her nose.

Asterr recognized it, but only as belonging to a wolf—a male, to be more precise—but his full identity remained a mystery. That disruption had proved to be beneficial, for the girl, as it provided just enough of a distraction for her to take back the reins of her physical form. She came to a complete stop, regaining the entirety of her senses and vowing to never allow for herself to be made a victim again. Though Draco had been settled and returned to his rightful place in the back of her mind, the urge to remain within the woods, still, did not leave. It was then that the dragon suspected that, perhaps, it was not truthfully the deer for whom she'd been called towards the land to collect, but the male residing within the very same area. It was nothing more than a theory, but one she put a great deal of faith into. After all, there was no way the mystical god would lead her towards something unless it had some way of proving advantageous. Thus, with the same soft steps she'd been running along with, she altered her course to send herself off in the direction the stranger's scent had originated from. No fear was present within her, despite her lack of knowledge where the male was concerned. She knew not his name or his intentions, or even from where he may have hailed from, yet that did not prevent her from seeking him out.

The expected amount of time for which it would take to reach him was little, which ended up being partially correct as far as assumptions go. It did not take an overly short amount of time, but it was not quite long, either. Somewhere in between, perhaps, but she could hardly care for that. What mattered was reaching the set destination, not how long it took to get there. Still, she was glad when a silvery hue could be spotted against all the earthy shades of the land, no doubt the very same being she'd been intent on locating. There was hardly an ounce of hesitation in her step as she drew closer, giving only a soft chuff at first to announce her presence. As her eyes roamed over his physique, she kept herself from closing the distance entirely and instead chose to hang back a short ways, giving herself ample room to move if he wasn't the type to speak. With her assessment and strategic placement complete, there came the need to speak. That need presented her tongue with the simplest of greetings, allowing for a genteel sounding "Hello" to exit past her lips.