Sleeping Dragon I'm your puppet

At least once a day, Thuringwethil will drop by the den. She often has a kill between her jaws but this day she does not. Everything eluded her up until this point and she knows when to admit defeat so instead of continuing her search, she cuts her patrol short and moves inward the claim. Her whelping den had strategically been placed as far from the borders as they could manage on a mountain so it took some time to get there.

She chuffs in greet, with a brief exchange, and she works her large body down into the small space. Thuringwethil makes herself comfortable with a few thumps of her tail behind her. Hvitserk, however, seemed out of line with his butt toward his mother and latched on to a stick. "What are you doing, little buddy?" she murmurs quietly and noses at him. He's quiet today, which had to mean good things, but she worries too much might push him over so for a moment she keeps her paws to herself.