Sleeping Dragon i could feel it from the start, couldn't stand to be apart

She ignored the stranger's approach, focused on her own labored movements— she knew by now that Drageda's borders were secure, and any wolf that approached would be of the pack. Magpie only turned her head to look at the male when he spoke, her green eyes dulled by pain. She didn't recognize him, but perhaps saw the mischievous hunger in his eyes; something she wasn't in the mood for, though she had to admit she was glad for some fresh company.

"I've never felt better, actually," she said dryly. "Fasting and bear attacks are quite rejuvenating." Of her mental ailments, Magpie said nothing. It was too personal, too embarrassing, too out of character. The emotions felt alien in her body, and if her physical body were in better shape she might have opted to run from them— not back to the Corvidae, for it was too late for that, but to perhaps start somewhere new. Somewhere fresh, without the weight of unrequited love and jealously. Somewhere where she could be the Magpie she recognized.