Sleeping Dragon i was as pure as a river but now i think i'm possessed

When Thuringwethil sees the figure approaching, she tenses. Her fur bristles on the back of her neck and she stares, watching him approach until his features define and she sees his lost in space. She isn’t hidden from the elements as if it were the evening, but a sore thumb against the background of snow. He hasn’t perked up yet to see her form but she remains still and eventually he jerks to attention and diverts his gait toward her direction.

She narrows her eyes, a growl sitting in the back of her throat as he speaks. Her tail stiffens above her spine and she gives the other a minute before she answers. If he hadn’t been able to discover the borders of her home, she knows they’re not ready. It is an effort but she bites back the growl: “You won’t find unclaimed land here.”