Sleeping Dragon don't be shocked when your history books mention me

Wildfire felt the old, familiar itch to hit the road, burning beneath her skin. She couldn't wait to see her family, catch up with them and make sure they were all right after the famine. Still, she dreaded being away from Drageda. She would miss seeing Thuringwethil daily, not to mention those tiny, squirmy puppies. Goodness, she had it bad for them. She hated to think she would miss even one day of their growth, yet she reminded herself that she hadn't even met her own younger brothers, who were probably full-sized by now.

She wouldn't be heading out for a few days yet, so the yearling savored what time she had left before her expedition. Today, she decided to seek out the commander. She veritably craved some time alone with her, simply to savor her company to stave off the withdrawals that would surely hit during her trip. That thought made Wildfire's lips twitch into a bemused smirk even as she tipped her smudged snout into the air, located Thuringwethil's scent, then easily traced it down to its source.

Feeling a little cheeky, Wildfire checked to make sure the coast was clear before sidling up to the Heda and thrusting her head beneath the curve of the black woman's throat. "Oh hello there," she greeted, tongue flicking out to sweep the commander's lower jaw.