Sleeping Dragon look to your kingdoms, i am coming for them all

A few rounds between @Gyda and I, then it will open up to a pack meeting.

The puppies were coming upon their second week of life. Hvitserk’s spells come and go but they are improving, she thinks, but time will tell if they stop all together. They have a remedy, at least, and she can’t be more thankful than for the capable wolves of her home. Most of them haven’t been around as long as home but their promise in loyalty is strong and those that have remained have continued to show their dedication, enveloping the life she and Gyda have created upon this mountain.

Even with a shaky start, they have prevailed in victory and famine, and while not the former glory that had been Seageda, Drageda is not a name the wolves in this Wilds will soon forget.

The morning comes slowly as Thuringwethil lay awake for the last several hours, tucked away in the darkness of her cave. Thoughts spend most of their time on amphetamines as she sorta through what she can but as soon as day breaks, she’s up and on her feet in one direction: Gyda’s whelping den.

It doesn’t take too long, making sure when at rest (or what she could call rest), she isn’t far should danger arrive. Gavriel has been there every night in her place, giving him the much needed time to be with his family. Like most mornings when she arrives, he’s at the mouth of the den acting as a shield to the opening but upon Heda’s approach, he’s quick to stand, bow, and dismiss himself off for a sweep of the area. Thuringwethil watches him disappear and then she turns back to the reason she’s come.

“Gyda.”