Sleeping Dragon Forgive me, if you can

While he might not have been able to speak to explain his absence from the Dragon, Gyda did not feel that his intentions were anything less than pure — though, admittedly, her fondness for the mute could have left the Viking Queen blind. Still, he lowered himself in submission, released an onslaught of yips and whimpers of excitement at their presence and leapt towards them with a vigor that would it have been anyone but Hush would have Gyda stepping back in dominance and defense. The life she was carrying was the (second) most important thing to her. She did tense for only a second — though the gesture was not meant to be offensive or aggressive. His lick was that of submission (and perhaps an further expression of his joy) and the Viking Queen accepted it. “Are you injured?” Gyda asked him, after Thuringwethil had expressed the warning. “You should eat something, too.” Even pregnant, Gyda fussed over her subordinates — though admittedly being pregnant probably didn't help her mama bear tendencies any. There wasn't much they could spare him — their caches were depleted (something a pregnant Gyda with an unfortunately increased appetite knew all too well) but she wanted to see him taken care of, nevertheless. He was a Dragon, he was one of her people and Gyda would do for him what she could. She glimpsed over to Thuringwethil, then, curious as to why Thuringwethil did not immediately label him a deserter and turn him away. For a moment, Gyda's gaze softened with affection for the Commander before she looked back to Hush quickly, hoping that Thuringwethil had not noted it.