Sleeping Dragon to marry the sea in a ceremony of storms

Cold nights and warm company made it easy, especially now that he had gradually started to become a more regular occurrence in Portia's den and had made himself at home once there. He might have otherwise been content to sleep through until just before dawn, but the mountain had other plans. While still bleary from sleep, he prickled uneasily when he felt Portia shifting and as soon as he had a better grasp on awareness, he understood why.

Her urging got him up, and out of the den promptly although the rise of his hackles persisted through it all. Even as he looked around and took this all in, confusion still muddied his thoughts -- he'd never felt this before, not here, not at the Rise, and not in any places his roving paws had known. He hovered close to Portia, uncertain what to do to even  guard them best in such a circumstance, but, his nostrils flared. Ash and rock alike fell next. He squinted, willing this to be the worst of it all, and for them to see the other side relatively unscathed; this wasn't exactly what he'd hoped to wake up to.

When Portia's call rose to the winds, he joined his in as well to let Heda know they were alright too now that things seemingly were calming down. He was still processing this, what it was, exactly, and what it could mean. He supposed this should be expected, considering their territory, but that still didn't mean he'd thought about what it would actually be like to have anything happen. "So strange," Dio exhaled, then yawned and licked his lips before brushing his muzzle against hers.

"Me neither.." he shook his head. "Think that was the worst of it?" he quirked a brow, wondering of the mountain's secrets while he squinted out into the ash-sprinkled horizon.