Sleeping Dragon the daughter of the mightiest god

There were plans that needed to be made, a strategy that he was required to piece together. Hvitserk had given his word to his sister, which he was determined to honour. The giant would fall just as they always did, and then there would exist within the pack nothing for Freyja to worry over. He was not the first to be born, and definitely not her older brother, but he felt a desire to protect his sibling that was so strong that he might as well have been. He knew not if the enemy had threatened her directly, but that mattered little now. Attacking a cache and destroying all of her hard work was a large enough crime for the child to want his head, and he had every intention of taking it. For how long it might take him to prepare, he knew not, but the day would arrive soon enough—and when it did, the beast would regret having ever joined the mountainous pack.

Heavy were his thoughts with all of the possibilities, which he found to be difficult to comb through. So many ideas had formed that he knew not what to do with them all, and so he’d found himself heading towards the borders with the intention of clearing his mind. A part of him hoped to find his raccoon friend there, though he doubted that he would, since she could distract him from all that he felt troubled by; he missed her, too. She would not be there to greet him, though, which he’d come to terms with even before his arrival at the borders. It was unconsciously that he’d kept an ear out for her anyways as he trailed along the borders, eventually finding someone that he’d not been expecting: his mother. Without knowing if he was still supposed to keep away from the borders whilst alone or not, he knew not what sort of reaction he’d be met with. So, of course, he had made an attempt at getting away unnoticed, which hadn’t worked at all. Walking backwards had seemed like a good idea at first, but he’d soon found himself sprawled out on the ground after having tripped over an unidentifiable object. A soft oomph slipped passed his lips, right before his eyes locked onto his mother’s form.

Hvit knew that his landing hadn’t exactly been quiet, but he still hoped that, by some miracle, he’d not been heard—or, if he had been, that she would not send him away.