Dragoncrest Cliffs the moon plays the ocean like a violin

Thuringwethil closes her feels when she feels Wildfire’s teeth graze her ear. It flicks out of her control but she leans into it—as best as she can, anyway—and lets her mate do as she pleases. When it cease, her eyes flicker open to watch her tell her about the names she’d been thinking about and why. She doesn’t have much to say in response as the level of disconnect becomes more aware. It has come up more than once and repeating it only makes it seem as if she isn’t trying. However, looking back, Thuringwethil isn’t sure how much she actually is trying.

Some of the traditions she has heard over their time together seems a little strange, especially Firebird theme is lost on her. And it’s just as likely things seem strange on her end but Wildfire has left those ways for Drageda, yet she isn’t entirely sure of their placement sometimes.

“I like those,” she says. Her mouth hangs up for a beat longer but eventually, she closes it. She doesn’t have the family to honor with names or similarities for her own children, but she can at least get close. “Artaax was the name of my mentor’s father,” she says as she goes back through those she had been close to over the period of her short childhood. Thuringwethil hadn’t necessarily been close to him but she knew Senja adored him and she supposes that’s the next best thing.