Sleeping Dragon Here comes the future, it’s violent and bright

Not a shred of evidence had surfaced of anything he knew, and so he hadn’t stayed anywhere for long. He had the mountains where he roamed then, and with that his longing for the sea was sated. More often than not, the choice between one or the other had to be made, and Toxochelys was certain he would not be drawn any further east.

The tawny seabeast had only just begun to traverse the northern expanse of the Teekon Wilds when a scent drifted to him on the oppressive summer breeze. There was something so tantalizingly familiar about it that he stopped dead in his tracks, then proceeded to make his way towards the source and the mountain’s base by extension at a swift lope. The slightest wisp of dark smoke drifted up snakily from the peak of the Sleeping Dragon as he made his approach.

Drawing nearer more quickly than he had anticipated, he slowed and investigated with meticulous care to discover with a slow-forming grin that the scent he sought with fervour laced the territory beyond as a boundary. They had drawn their line in the mountain’s stone instead of the sand. He tossed his head with a coltish sort of revelry, then galloped away perhaps a mile in the direction he’d arrived. When he had placed enough distance between himself and their home, he paced once and loosed a strong, but very personal howl. It was meant for @Thuringwethil alone.