Sleeping Dragon "I love you, Crona."

Thuringwethil is ending her patrol around the bend before she retires to her cave—something she’s made note to try and spend more nights in—and her gait has slowly to enjoy the cool, evening air. The days are often hot but she’s noticed a slight drop in the last week or so, thankful for the upcoming cooler weather. Winter isn’t that far around the corner, either, and she’s thankful the children will be old enough to handle it well. She’d only been through half a winter in the teekon and even what she’s seen has been fairly mild compared to the one she’s experienced prior.

She’s distracted a moment as a scent fills her nose that, after a moment, she recognizes with ease. It may has been some time since she’d crossed paths but she knows it’s something she won’t forget any time soon. She’s found her home abandoned not that long ago, either, and the purpose for it being this close is enough to unsettle her stomach. Heda growls low as she trots several yards until she spots the dark figure in the distance, further down where the slope meets flat ground. With the other in view, she slows her gait to an even swagger until she’s within ear shot.

“You have one chance to leave.”