Sleeping Dragon wildwood

Forward he had gone, but he'd not succeeded in getting very far at all. Teeth had fastened themselves around his scruff, yanking him back in the process. His own momentum had caused for the sudden stop to hurt, a sharp yelp slipping out past his lips in response to the pain. Of course, the opening of his mouth had provided the perfect opportunity for all of the leaves to fall out, and so down onto the ground they'd floated with the breeze. Panic rose within his chest, knowing that he needed to recollect them so that he could carry on with finding Portia. The stranger, however, didn't seem as if she'd allow for him to do as he wanted, which automatically made her the bad lady. Didn't she know that he needed to show the greenery to his mentor? Obviously not, since she wouldn't let him go—also, probably, because he hadn't said anything to her about it, and most likely never would.

Hvit did not turn docile in response to her having scruffed him. Rather, he'd done the exact opposite. He'd started to squirm and pull, trying numerous times to twist himself out of her grip. Several times, however, he'd stopped to scratch more at his face, as well as his neck. He was worsening the rash, but didn't yet see an issue with his actions, as his mind was focused only on retrieving his leaves and taking them to Portia.