Sleeping Dragon red: the color of desire

Freyja was completely oblivious to her namesake, but, had she known, perhaps the grey-scaled child would have seen her ambitions as fate. The idea of leadership was one that stirred a bright flame within her, that made her want to do better. Perhaps it was through this lesson that Gyda would disclose the information. To her mother’s encouraging words, Freyja’s tail wagged gently and her features brightened remarkably. “Thank you, Móðir,” she breathed, not truly finding the right words in that moment to express her gratitude.

With the agenda of lessons on the table, Gyda disclosed that she was not all too familiar with the Dragedaculture and instead could offer tales from which her grandfather reigned. She had never heard such tales and to this information, she nodded, knowing that she should not limit herself to just Drageda's history. “I would love to hear all about him,” she replied, bringing herself to a sitting position so that she would be more comfortable. To what Gyda offered next, Freyja smiled once more.

“But your short time leading could have provided lessons,” she said, quite enjoying finding the motivation and meaning to each story that was shared with her.