Sleeping Dragon I'll learn to love it

While he'd never wander so far that his home would no longer be visible, he still wanted to at least test those limits he'd set for himself, and what better time to do it than while mother slept? And so he'd advanced, wobbling along without even an ounce of grace in his steps, and searched for a partner in play. It hadn't been long before someone had been found, either, a throaty sound having gathered his attention long before the word ever arrived. He could not understand what it was that she'd said, but he did recognize her as being like him, and so caution was thrown to the wind. She would play with him and keep him occupied until everyone else woke up, he was sure of it, and so he'd made a beeline for her.

Never had he quite reached her, however, for a blur of movement and a bad sound caused him to stumble to a stop. Hvitserk did not know what to call the noise that had been emitted from the male, but he did know that it wasn't anything good. When someone got in trouble or did something that wasn't right, that sound was heard, and so his eyes had snapped over to the female to try and figure out what she'd done wrong. The stranger hadn't hurt him, nor had she stolen his food (that'd be an interesting sight if she had, huh?), so the problem she'd clearly made wasn't so easily seen.

The pallid woman said something again, the string of unfamiliar words being even longer than the last. What did it mean? He didn't know, nor was it certain that he could honestly care. There was an itching in his throat, and then on his tongue, almost as if he'd wanted to attempt to repeat her, but all of it had been ignored. Hvit had not yet taken an interest in babbling, attention often being on moving around—just as it'd been then. For from his father's side the boy had departed, continuing on his original path towards his playmate-to-be.