Sleeping Dragon Beauty behind the madness

The call sends a wave of irritation through her spine. It is not the call made by a curious loner for a potential home but someone wanting attention. Her jaw sets as she moves, with only urgency that some stranger lingers on her borders with intent and she has to find that out and clear the threat. Another could beat her to the spot she’s been called to but the closer she gets, she doesn’t smell anything she recognizes.

Thuringwethil stiffens her posture, squaring her head above her shoulders and her tail arched tightly along her spine. As she descends the last bit of distance to find a young girl at her borders, she finds a growl low in her chest when the scent of the grotto lingers on her pelt. It is not thick, but there nonetheless, and she flashes her teeth once she’s closes enough but she doesn’t pursue a chase just yet.