Sleeping Dragon i suggest next time try feeding me to dragons

Her conclave seems long ago as she pulls it from her memories, lips forming a contemplative line across her muzzle. She withdraws from the small caress, missing Wildfire’s warmth as she falls into the cold darkness of her past. Even if she keeps it in the back, it’s always poking out in some form or other, as she watched two wolves kill each other while she takes the life another. When asked about it, she often doesn’t think about herself in the picture but this time she does, drawing back how she’d fared once everything was said and done.

“It was probably the worst I’d ever been,” she says in consideration, remembering the long, cool night she had to survive as the final step. She’d been through battle and attacks since then, even a cougar a few months ago, and maybe it wasn’t just the physical wounds that had taken their toll. “I was 8 months old, I wasn’t as experienced or as big as they were, but—” she pauses, a small grin visible when she turns to look at Wildfire—“I can take quite the beating, so you really don’t need to worry.”

Thuringwethil’s nose leans forward and she bumps the girl playfully before withdrawing and putting space back between them.