Sleeping Dragon the daughter of the mightiest god

The kiss to his brow had been welcomed, leaned into, but not returned; his mind was focused on patrolling the borders with his mother, not acting affectionate. The moment she’d moved away from him his head had lifted and tilted, expression curious, though the answer to his unasked question was given only a moment later. Whilst Gyda led the way, the young Viking trailed behind her, watching her as best he could so that he might learn. Whenever she stopped, he’d mimicked her actions, determined to show just how capable he was. The reason from which his desire stemmed was clear enough, too: he wanted to be able to linger along and beyond the borders whenever it appealed to him, but without the risk of punishment. For the day, or maybe even the week, that was his goal and he hoped to accomplish it with the assistance of his mother.

When at last they had finished, Hvitserk found himself to be rather tired. With hardly anything more than two or three words, he’d parted ways with Gyda and headed off towards the den. Once there, he’d slept for just long enough to regain his energy, and then went out again to explore.