Dragoncrest Cliffs for the arms that hold me

When the girl finally comes to, Thuringwethil braces for much more. She’s in a foreign land after the sea threw her out, back on to land. Whatever brought her in had been enough to catch the attention of others and brought her here. She struggles to see coincidence between the events. Heda watches her stammer back, putting distance between the two of them and she does not try to close it again. Instead, she remains stiff-legged and lets the girl take as much space as she needs. Occasionally, she flickers her gaze beyond her to see if and when the others would come. In the meantime, she has to work to keep her calm.

Carefully, Thuringwethil lowers her rump to the ground and eases her posture. She has no intention of stepping forward and crowding her again when she doesn’t want the help. Having her panic in her state will do more harm than good, she is sure, and she’s old enough to make decisions on her own.

“You are in my home,” she tells her, alternating her weight upon her front paws until she settles comfortable in the sand. A tongue washes over her muzzle. She turns her nose back to the ocean and points outward to the last remaining whales in the distance. Several then flip their rear fins in the air and no longer slowly linger nearby but as she returns her gaze, she does not answer any further questions.