Sleeping Dragon there should be stars for great wars like ours

The puppies were getting bigger, changing before her eyes—she thinks they’ve grown each new night she returns to check on them—and developing their own little traits. Freyja moves a lot, even if she didn’t necessarily go anywhere. Thyri and Eske are ready to be warriors. Hvitserk is quiet, subtle, and Thuringwehtil holds a curiosity on where he might go with the traits he’s showing so early. However, this night, something seems a little off as she watches, not having been ready for her own sleep.

He begins to make sounds and shift between his siblings and Thuringwethil’s brows dip between her gaze with worried curiosity. His sounds build to a full on wail when he's jerked awake and her ears drop back against her head, lowering it to the ground and nosing him out of the bunch. It’s likely to wake the other puppies, and Gyda—unless she’s completely wiped—and so she tries to weasel the little boy out from the rest and offer an encouraging lick across his face to soothe his wailing into sleep again.