Sleeping Dragon listen how your heart beats inside me

Rey wriggled in her sleep. That was one of her favourite, if not absolute favourite, things to do. Sometimes she was placed hither and thither, but wherever she went, and whatever she was doing, there would be wriggling. The same was true of tonight when she awoke at the feel of cold and unfriendly wet on her delicate skin. She had been buried deep in the crook of her mother's foreleg, but had wriggled her way out. She squeaked, but then the rain stopped suddenly and she paused with blind curiosity.