Sleeping Dragon the halls of æsir trembled

Thuringwethil had taken to sleeping by Gyda's birthing den and only because her queen was due in a matter of days, she'd often remind herself. None of it had anything to do with Wildfire and the fact the girl wasn't talking to her.

She rests somewhere near by, cloaked in an extra shadow by a tree against the moon. It is only a half sleep, ears up and nearly one eye open, as she gets through the night. Something catches her attention, however, and she's alert once again in a sphinx position, immediately staring at the den to focus her concentration. It continues, soft, inaudible coaxing words and an occasional squeak. Steel eyes began to scan the rest of their surroundings before she notes there's no threat, and slowly picks herself up to inch closer and listen.

The sign of more life has been proven and a soft smile lingers on her features, but she remains silent. No longer is their sleep on her mind, sitting up right and remaining guard of the den until morning.