Sleeping Dragon Hiy hiy

There had been a number of intruders lately, or that's what she thought, and it had been a wonderful moment to have witnessed the wolves of Drageda driving one out. She was immediately impressed with all of them, and felt a swell of pride for the kingdom her aunt had formed upon the mountain. Seregryn had not participated as the patrol had routed Esaro's attempts — whatever he was after — and she was left with an overwhelmingly high level of energy that had to be worked off. Maybe the event had been her awakening? She had been lost in the doldrums of this quiet place since her inception among the ranks, listless, bored, and now the girl had ample interest.

Seregryn had such thoughts in mind as she traipsed about the mountain this day. She thought of all the things she could do to benefit herself and the pack, all the skills she could develop, and wandered while she plotted. Her route was as irregular as her thoughts. Every moment she was hidden in the shadows of the trees she thought, I could be a spy! And yet every moment she came to a patch of sunlight filtering down across the mountainside, her mind wandered — hunter, she thought for an hour, guardian, her mind said next.

She marched straight out in to the minefield of geysers without even noticing where her paws were taking her; so enthralled with the competing ideas in her head. Seregryn imagined herself as the heda next, and with the full bravado of a mindless child ignorant of their audience, she assumed the required posture; her head lifted to match the clouds, her tail flagged behind her. She was only playing at being Thuringwethil now — and with one wrong step she tripped and nearly went face-first in to a geyser as it spat a nice column of sulfurous air.

With a surprised yelp she tumbled back, smacking her tailbone against the stony ground — and as the mist in the air cleared, she thought she saw fire on the other side.