Sleeping Dragon and sometimes, we only know how to crumble

The Grotto's presence had annoyed, no, riled, the mute, pushing him to bolster the western borders more fiercely than before. He finished one of these patrols right before the sun fully disappeared, a yawn creaking through his maw. He was tired; the day hot and wet and sticky. He rejoiced in the soft cooling of the night, though it did nothing to ease his thirst.

Hush brought himself to a creek, gladly lapping up its cool water. As he rose, licking the droplets from his soaked muzzle, he noticed a canine shaped figure in the shadows. He chuffed, walking towards the figure, only to have her features become clearer in his pale blue eyes; Heda. His head dipped and he whimpered in greeting to the Commander.