Firefly Ravine you are wicked, and you are cruel

Drogon is no longer so easily lost to grandeur fantasies that often grip children for mentally he is less child than he has ever been in his (short) life. The tragedies he has endured have made him stronger, have hardened him into the apathetic and frigid beast he is becoming and stripped away any childish innocence that was left. The tundrian is as cold and unforgiving as the tundra and that was the way it had to be. There was nothing else left. He is raw and refuses to let anyone truly in; because it is better that way, he feels. He thinks there is too much cynicism within him for being as young as he is but it is there nonetheless bitter and snarling. Admittedly, despite this, he got lost watching the fireflies, allowing the chaotic symphony of crickets, frogs and toads to calm the tempest that rages through him. Chaos to cancel out chaos; and it works. At least until a strange scent tickles his black, leathery nostrils.

His hackles bristle with unease and as a warning though the other thing that lurks in the ravine with him that is not toad of insect cannot yet see him. The grasses are too high with him lounged sphinx-like though he tightens his body and rises slowly as to not startle the other predator into defensive attack. Drogon has never came across a wolverine before, isn’t even sure he’s heard of them — though it likely would not have made a difference he did not fear the world in the way he perhaps should have — but he is weary and his muzzle is tucked to protect his throat as glacial gaze burns as he searches the shadows for the other thing. He can sense it now and every instinct within him cautions him.

“Who's there?” The soturi demands in deep, husky timbre never so grateful that it is strong (if not soft for he is not an inherently loud beast) and does not betray him with the cracks and high pitched whines of puberty that he has been experiencing. Not wolf, this he knows. So then what? He cannot help but wonder with ears peaked and alert atop his skull, muscles pulled taunt beneath ashen ivory and soot dusted pelage.