Silvertip Mountain after dark

Naturally, Toothless didn't mind Leader's inverted schedule in the least. It slept during the day, as always, curled in a tight little ball like a kitten in a basket. It rose when she rose, stretching and yawning like that same young cat, its slender tail giving a few jerks and twitches as it absently preened its shoulder. When the hulking she-wolf started to move, so too did Toothless move, gliding after her like a wingless bat.

Tonight's venture led them back into mountainous territory. It was not the same slopes and bluffs which Toothless had called home for months now, yet the sameness was nevertheless welcomed. As Leader plowed forward on a towpath, Toothless zigged up and over a rock and zagged behind a tree, never sticking to a straight line.

In fact, it felt so comfortable in these surroundings that Toothless momentarily forgot that it was not, in fact, alone, but instead among silent company. Feeling more lively than usual, it clawed atop a rather large boulder and sat there like a dragon on its roost, its head tipped back, and yipped a single note toward the silver dollar of a moon.