Sleeping Dragon life should be lived to it's fullest

Thuringwethil doesn’t know the land as much as Gyda might and so her ever growing absence made the dark woman worry. She does what it takes to ease her apprehension and walks the borders, marking the scents that grew weak, mixing with the others. She couldn’t even smell Gyda’s scent anymore. The others pull their weight and they’ve done well since they’d joined and so far remained faithful but it isn’t the same without her friend.

The howl immediately gives her pull, nearly stumbling as she begins her trot in the direction it had come, and does not leave Gyda waiting for too long. A smile tugs at her lips as the sun begins to set behind her and a shine fills her dark grey eyes. Her form glides up next to her and her nose runs along her muzzle before she’s buried it in her mane. Thuringwethil closes her eyes and inhales, reminding herself of the woman’s scent. She forces herself to back away and drink her in, making sure she’s healthy and there are no injuries to mend. There are no fresh scars or wounds days old and maybe a little worse for wear, but she’s in one piece and home. 

“You are well,” she says evenly, smile fading from her features as her shoulders ease back to her usual stoicism.