Sleeping Dragon you are made of galaxies with stardust stuck to your ribs

It doesn’t take long for her to gain attention from at least one of the puppies. The others remain peacefully sleeping on the ground while Freyja charges forward in the light spilling into the den. She can barely contain the chuckle as she inches forward, creeping downward until the first born is carefully placed between her teeth and tugged up into outside world. Gently, Thuringwethil lowers the little warrior to the ground between her paws to best contain her as the sun lightens up her pale fur.

And then, Thuringwethil buries her nose into the girl’s chest and huffs warm breaths against her.