Sleeping Dragon you married an icarus, he has flown too close to the sun

Their journey hadn't been long, but it wasn't easy on the heda. Thuringwethil's injuries weren't obvious to Snacha at first, but as they walked, the leg and nape wounds began to ooze, and Thuring also began to limp. Snacha tried to help, offered her own shoulder as support, but the heda refused. It was only when they arrived upon the targeted mountain that she finally collapsed, allowing Snacha to sit beside her and lend her support on her uninjured side, raising her voice for another. The raccoon-wolf sat beside her heda, busying herself cleaning the wounds as best she could, worry eating at her heart and yet not showing too clearly upon her face. She had been trained to conceal emotion, and yet she was young still; some emotion was revealed in her eyes, in the set of her mouth, in the way she moved. In time these things would pass, but since she was not even a year's span old, they were not yet scrubbed from her.

Soon the wolf called for arrived, a woman quite unlike any Snacha had seen before, She wasn't tall or brawny, but she was regal and her coat floated as if on a breeze of its own. The sunlight sparkled off her silver coat and cast a halo of light about her. Snacha left Thuring's side reluctantly, but she could not kneel while also holding the heda upright. Though she herself was a warrior, this woman was a goddess, and Snacha had never met one before. She remained kneeling, head bowed and ears flicked back, tail tucked, waiting for instruction. As she hadn't been spoken to directly, she remained silent, eyes averted, waiting for Thuringwethil to introduce her bodyguard to the goddess before her.

girl-crush. /random