Sleeping Dragon i have watched holy men immolate on the banks of Nile

PP permission granted!

The smoke had hit her well before the tremble from underpaw. She had woken to it, blinking slowly as she attempted to comprehend just what the smell was and where it was coming from. Soon enough, her eyes fell to the den entrance and she frowned to this, knowing that the smell of smoke was never a good thing. Despite these initial foreboding thoughts she was still intrigued. She removed herself from Seff’s side at once and pulled herself into the open. She did not have much time to collect herself once she stood outside because it was as she attempted to track down where the scent was coming from, the earth began to quake.

Though she had survived the last time this had happened, Freyja instantly recognized that the shaking was far worse than it had been before. Something landed heavily in the pit of her belly in that moment as fear momentarily paralyzed her. She recovered from her own panic  as she was knocked off of her feet and landed pitifully on her side. Her eyes went skyward for the first time since she had left the den and a brand new wave of terror overcame her as she caught sight of the smoke looming from the Dragon’s mouth.

“S-Seff!” she called desperately as she scrambled to regain her footing, finding it rather difficult to do so with how fiercely the ground moved. When she did get onto her paws, Seff was before her. Though he was healing well, Freyja was not that confident in his being able to travel. Though his neck looked to be healing just fine, the silver-haired woman found herself worrying over his well being. But, despite these thoughts, Freyja knew it was their time to go. The dragon was no longer welcoming there and they would die if they stayed any longer. Though Freyja had no idea just what all of this meant, she inferred that it was not in the pack’s favor.

“We’ve got to leave. Now. And we have to find Hvitserk.” In her panic, the call from the Heda went unheard and instead she found herself needed to seek out Hvitserk. Her eyes jutted about the frenzy and soon enough she found herself finding her brother who was not too far off. A single pang of relief, a needed interruption from the sheer terror that had overcome her, occured at this and she called over to him desperately over the roar, “Hvitserk, we have to go.”

Stiff legged, Freyja began to lead the trio westward-- down the mountain and as far away as she could. Was was energized by her sense of flight, finding herself not even stopping to consider the rest of her pack in that moment and instead lead the two men she loved the most further from the dangers of the mountain.