Sleeping Dragon Trials by Fire

The lava that seeped out of the not to sleepy volcano has his eyes widening in fascination. His interest in the grim always thrusts him into peculiar situations. He loves the chaotic nature of the volcano that’s been erupted. Loves the certain danger that comes with it; quiet but always there. The geysers with the shimmering, clear water take his breath away just to add a bit of beauty to the hectic nature of it all. The bodies of water without the fiery mist of the geysers shooting out are almost too hot to take a dip in, especially in the freezing temperatures that’s the weathers at currently.

His heavy paws carry himself across the rough terrain of dried lava rocks, loose gravel, and dirt higher up near the volcano. Where down lower there is still a fair amount of life, grass and the such. He sees from a distance, another wolf it looks like. 

He squints his eyes and his mouth dares to curl into a mischievous smile. He loves to play with other wolves; especially loves to scare them. So he continues onward, trotting at a steady pace as his body–thick with muscle and torn with scars–carry him. He loves a theatrical entrance; call him cliche.

His ruined ears point towards his new company. Santi’s ear twitches in irritation but his ghostly eyes are still stuck in his new toy. The tag that was clipped there bothers and he only mildly suppresses the urge to scratch it. His smile turns into a smirk and he lets out a throaty chuckle to announce himself and jumps over a thin rivulet of drying lava.

“And who are you now?” He drawls, his accent rich and pronounced. Santi puts his white teeth on display and his nub of a tail even dares to wag a bit. “What are you doing in such a place?”