Sleeping Dragon i am made of shrapnel

The pikas were scarce, but the ones he did find were plump and juicy. He wished he had caught more while they were plentiful, but these would have to do. They weren't congregated in one place in particular, so he travelled far and wide to find the little things. The one he held in his maw was near the geysers, to his distaste, but the taste was too good to pass up. The hybrid was ready to trot back towards his den with his prize when he saw Heda. Not one to be rude, the mute trotted to her, chuffing. He dropped the pika, rolling it towards her, a questioning look on his face, all but oblivious to her restlessness.