Sleeping Dragon heavy is the head that wears the crown

Thuringwethil's lips purse but she washes it away with a lick over her muzzle, flattening out her features. There has been tension between them from the start and, perhaps, she'd been hasty in their decisions but there is little to be done. They had something together and giving it up isn't in either of their interests, not any time soon. She could move on and rehome those that follow Heda but a short list through their ranks didn't leave her with a lot of options. Their populous would never match Seageda within the dragon, but Drageda's reaches much farther than her own touch. Merging with Gyda and her own way forces her paw more than she'd like to admit but no longer can she deny or ignore.

"They will be a new generation for this place," she says, quietly and in thought. Not another set of followers for Heda or the Vikings, separately following their own, but something conjoined together. Perhaps if she'd reached out to Odinn's Cove to join Seageda before this time, it would have matured and they wouldn't be in this spot. Thuringwethil doesn't give herself a chance to worry long as she states that Gavriel will show up at her own doorstep for a blessing. She doesn't doubt it, but brushes it off, not expecting anything less.