Phoenix Maplewood you are a forest fire, set the world aflame

Thuringwethil isn't sure if the scents, however faded they may be, would be a deterrent for wolves passing by. She even considers Reek and his crew might come down after his call and see the wreckage left behind, but she hasn't noticed a trace of the dark male. He wouldn't find a body, but it didn't mean there hadn't been any, and his obliviousness is the thing she desires most. Wanting him to believe she tore his family apart, devoured his innocent children, in a further way to manipulate him from not taking the deal she offered. They could have had something great, but his stupidity would only destroy him.

A scent causes her head to turn, lift and square above her shoulders—dominant, as if she owned the land—and arches her tail above her spine. A neutral territory it may be now, but Thuringwethil's warning to the phoenixes, as well as any that may pass by, would not go unnoticed. For now, the Maplewood belongs to her, and she intends to keep it that way.

From where she stands, she watches the dark make. His scent is only vaguely familiar, reminding her of the wolves she'd chased out of her lands north of the dragon. They'd settled a little closer to the coast, far enough away to saris the young leader. Tensions are between them, but Thuringwethil and her group kept their distance and she expected the others to do the same. The other isn't close enough to Sleeping Dragon for her to deter him any further, but he does stand on her victory ground. Thuringwethil remains silent, observing his decisions from the distance between them.