Sleeping Dragon some nights you ache to believe in God

The most logical place to go from there is her den but she doesn’t. She loiters near the lagoon for a while before eventually she’s wandering as far as the field will allow and a flash of red is spotted ripping through the night. Her ears swivel upon her head as she watches her mate descend into the geyser field until she’s nearly on top of her. Thuringwethil braces for the impact but she barely notices much as she feels the girl’s snout move through the motions. Her own lowered and she curls herself to embrace the woman, tugging her close to her chest and trying to settle the frantic search.

“Moba,” she murmurs into Wildfire’s fur, nuzzling against the back of her head and burying her face into her fiery coat. Her tongue laps at the back of one ear as she pulls from her grip and licks the side of her face before she smooths over the tussled fur between her eyes. Thuringwethil swallows the new lump in her throat and takes an unsteady step back, feeling a tremor that makes her stance a little wobbly. She recollects how little she has slept or eaten in the las few days and her eyes close as she wills herself to steady, firming her stance with a shake of her head and tightening of her jaw.