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

Such an interesting psychological mix was at hand. First and foremost, sheer instinct was at play. Thuringwethil, proud and newly ascended, asserting her dominance, the lone wolf knowing his best chance of survival was extreme submission. There stood three beasts, wild, having no need to talk.

Secondly there was culture. Lucani did not know their language, of course, but had picked up that something had happened in another life — something in their life before Sleeping Dragon. She wanted to know more about that life. But lastly there was the sheer personal aspect of all of this — these two clearly knew each other in some form or other. There was emotion at play.

For this reason, before Thuringwethil bid she follow she was tempted by the possibility that she might linger behind and learn the story of this wretched newcomer. But she was given no opportunity to, and moved elegantly to join her Alpha as they walked away.

Only once out of the male's hearing range did Lucani speak. Can I ask what happened, Thuringwethil? she asked, ears and form submissively low.