Sleeping Dragon Stedaunon don gon we, en kikon ste enti.

She imagined it would take some time for the wolves to truly wake. Despite being a gathering of warriors, Seregryn did not expect much movement, as the morning was already beginning to seem like a warm and lazy thing; the day would be even warmer, limiting the activities of most creatures. It would be a good day to hunt, but they would have to get a party together before the midday sun began to beat down upon the mountainside - otherwise they would be prone to over-exertion and dehydration. Seregryn was content to sit upon her temporary throne as she watched the sky, her gaze slipping down along the perilous cliff's edge, where she could spy upon the angled birch trees that clustered below.

This grew boring though, and soon she was crossing her paws and adjusting herself, ready to plant her chin upon her wrists; it was within this moment of subtle movements that she caught a gleam of color in her periphery, and instantly her mood shifted. The wolf that idled by her, watching her, was soon met with a direct look from her crimson gaze. She narrowed her eyes at first, seemingly to avoid the light, and then gave a small chuff of a greeting -- wondering if the stranger would come closer so she could properly see them, or escape before the pompous child could do any harm.