Sleeping Dragon The rocky road to Dublin

Foxglove had been about to argue with Junebell longer and louder, but the keen sense of someone's approach, made her shut her mouth and crane her neck to see, who it was. By now she had learned that there were no people, who looked upon her thing favourably. So had been her parents and siblings, so had been the first pack she had hung around with for a while, before avoiding the fate of becoming dinner to a very superstitious folk. 

She did not move, but regarded the stranger apprehensively. So far very few strangers had proven to be of the friendly and good kind and she was prepared to swim, run, scramble, tumble for her life, if things began to look too fishy. At times like these Foxglove really wished that Junebell, who was more confident and therefore more annoying by nature, could take over the matters. Yet she... as snotty as she was at other times, tended to keep quiet, when there was a real need for her. 

You are such a goose... Foxglove thought (about Junebell), her eyes still lingering at the stranger's tall form.