Sleeping Dragon there is only one god and his name is death

The dark wolf only sees the disruption of the night, separating from the river in a blob she can barely distinguish. It’s not small enough to be easy game and big enough to cause concern that slowly began to lift her front legs from dangling over the ledge. Thuringwethil focuses on the other’s approach of her borders closest to the river and her eyes narrow and for a moment, she considers making a call but the scent of her healer behind her catches her attention, followed by a low growl that would surprise her if she weren’t so focused on the borders below her.

Thuringwethil only offers a brief glance toward Lucani before her tired paws hit the ground running, finding the easiest route down to the borders to try and meet whatever force has come upon them. 

She doesn’t glance back to see if her subordinate follows but she does come upon Dio, charging the creature from behind that immediately sends her to the front. The closer she gets, the more she smells the wolf and focused on a spot somewhere in front of intruder to keep her between the two warriors. Her tail stiffens, arching over her spine and she keeps her head high, nose pointed downward slightly for protection, as a snarl rips from her jaws in anticipation.