Sleeping Dragon to marry the sea in a ceremony of storms

Wildfire slept like the dead tonight. She did not rouse when Thuringwethil moved away in the middle of the night, taking her warmth with her, nor when the earth itself began to tremble. It was only when the commander's voice shrilled in the distance that the Bandrona suddenly startled awake, snuffling and blinking. Drool crusted her lip and cheek but she paid no mind to it as she blearily scrambled to all fours in the cold, empty den.

She darted outside, the light of the moon so bright that it made Wildfire squint. Everything seemed preternaturally still at the moment, though there was a strange smell to the crisp November air and the occasional snowflake drifted through the darkness. Heart beating in her throat, the yearling listened to the howls resounding from various points around the territory, still not quite sure what was going on.

"I'm here!" she managed to call, her voice low and throaty and not nearly as loud as the others' even after all this time. Fearful that the Heda might not have heard her, Wildfire began to lope upward, toward the source of the leader's call. Only as she climbed did she realize that those weren't snowflakes swirling on the air; they were bits of ash.