Sleeping Dragon my heart has always been soaked in rocket fuel and sorrow

Ells, jump in at any time! I'm just brimming with muse.

A howl rings her ears and her head lifts, ears cupping forward. First thought fills her with pride; her borders were solidifying. Lucani and Snacha were doing their part and Sleeping Dragon was coming together. A moment later, however, she realizes the familiarity to the tune. Her muscles tense and her jaws tighten, shifting her weight in the direction it had come from. Her limp is barely present in her trot and it’s a matter of minutes before she sees the dark wolf, greying at his tips, standing near her weak borders.

Thuringwethil slows her trot and takes careful footsteps forward, tail arched above her spine to accentuate her swagger. His features begin to define and her fur rises along her back, ruffling her feathers a little bigger. Slim and lanky as she may be, beneath is the strength of a warrior, trained since she was two months old. A growl rumbles in the depths of her chest and a flash of her teeth is given as she approaches. There is no business for the wolf to be at her doorsteps, a shadow of her former life.