Sleeping Dragon that's the spirit

The promise of a storm was on the horizon as mid-afternoon was upon the territory. Dark clouds gathered in the distance as the occasional rumble of thunder struck overhead the mountain. Though she knew very little about storms she was intrigued by the sight. She was perched just outside her family’s den as she watched in silent awe of what was to come, her posture tall and her eyes wide as she looked on.

Though some storms had visited their territory that summer she had never been able to see a storm from conception. She had yet to see dark clouds gather and and travel overhead to drop their blessings to the earth. Thought she didn’t entirely know just what to expect to come of the gathering darkness, she remained as she was and simply waited for whatever was to come.

There’s another trip Thuringwethil needs to make out of the territory, not quite ready to send Wildfire out again—the information about Kierkegaard and what had been there still remained in the back of her mind—but she isn’t quite ready to leave the territory so soon. The trip won’t take too long, most of a single day, but she’d wasted a good majority of the morning and with a storm on the horizon, she’d rather wait it out for a few more days until she knows for certain things will be in place.

She eases her way through the area where most wolves slept, working her way back to her cave, when she sees a small, silvery figure up ahead without anyone else nearby. Her ears cup forward and she shifts her direction, making her way toward the young girl—a couple of sniffs indicated Gavriel isn’t terribly far off, if not in the den—and so she lets herself relax at the exposure. They were, more or less, in the rendezvous site now anyway, mingling with the rest of the pack, but her own protectiveness of the dragons never fails.

“Hei,” she murmurs a gentle hello upon her approach, glancing back upon the horizon and the storm to come, before focusing on little Freyja.

Just as the storm had begun to roll in, a familiar smell wafted by as she observed the weather change. Turning towards the smell, the young Goufa caught sight of Thuringwethil approaching. Her tail waved in the passing breeze as the silver cub picked herself up and stood.”Hei, Hedwa,” she offered in reply, smiling up to her superior before reaching forward to place a kiss upon the wolf’s chin.

When the affection was given, Freyja stepped back and thrust her nose towards the direction of the horizon, her welcoming expression quickly melding into a look a tamed curiosity. “Hedwa,” she addressed again, regarding her alpha with a tilt of her head. “Chiwt?” she asked in regards to the cluster of storm clouds beyond them. After asking, she turned her eyes to the horizon, hopeful the Heda would answer her question.

She’d been a staple in the young dragons life in the beginning but with the change of leadership and Gavriel’s return, it had become less. She still made time to see them and spend time with them and now that they are easily accessible to everyone else, she’s sure she’ll get more time in. Even in her absence, she’s happy to hear the girl speak her native tongue—no doubt Gavriel’s doing and that it’s fairly easy to learn—but she’s sure Gyda has been teaching them as well. Thuringwethil knows they’ll all be well rounded as they grow with plenty of influences all around.

Her inquiry causes her head to turn and she looks, shifting her weight so that she can sit down. It isn’t something she often does but she feels rather relaxed around the children, giving them a chance to feel comfortable around her.

“Skaikrasha,” she says. “Rein kom op.”

Skaikrasha. The word stuck to her mind like an unsuspecting fly to a spiderweb. So that was the word for it! The next string of words were ones that Freyja had heard before and often was a warning that playtime would soon come to an end. At this thought, she frowned. She did not feel like it was time to go inside and hoped that her Heda agreed to such a thought. She would only consider such a thing until water began to fall from the sky, unless she was told otherwise


“Skawi--” she struggled, her tongue failing to make the proper noises that she wanted them to make. “Skaw…!” she trailed and despite her efforts she could not bring about the caboose of the complex word. She fell silent again, slightly frustrated at the words complexity.

Freyja attempts the word but pauses, stumbling over how to form the rest. Thuringwethil lets her work it out but she doesn’t quite make it. A smile forms on her her features as she slowly settles her way down into a laying position, making herself comfortable. “Nodotaim,” she encourages. “Skai-kra-sha.”

With the urging to try again, Freyja looked to the Heda with a nod. Her concentration was set on the word at hand and her mouth at the ready to take on this almighty word. With heavy brows upon her milky-eyes she spoke again, “Skaaaaw---” it was the dang “i” that was the roadblock! “--- kaw---” she was almost there!! “---shaw!!!” She was flabbergasted. She did it! She looked up to her leader with a look of pride and her tail waved! Did you see that!? I did it!

In her puppy tones, Freyja manages to force the word out of her mouth in three lisped syllables. Thuringwethil doesn't force the word again for her to overcome, giving her a little benefit that she may grow out of it. The girl has three languages thrust upon her to learn and separate and she has plenty to learn as she grows. When she beams up at her, Heda flashes a smile and lowers her muzzle to bump her. "Os," she offers then before peering back over the horizon for the inevitable to come.

Freyja’s attention shifted as Thuringwethil’s did, her milky blue panning towards the dark horizon. “Shawkawshaw… Bad?” she asked, glancing back to the dark-furred leader curiously.

Freyja repeats the word but aims a question for her and Thuringwethil searches the sky as if it might have a good answer for the girl. She legs silence linger a few moments before she eventually breaks her gaze to look down at the questioning dragon. “No, nou otaim,” she says. “There are bad storms and good storms. You just have to be careful with any storm.” Her head turned as she considered what else to explain, but let the girl’s curiosity form organically so that she may not persuade one over another.

So, apparently there were good and bad storms. Her gaze went skyward as she observed the storm carefully, unsure what made a storm good or bad. Perhaps the Heda had the answer she desired. “Hewda,” she said, looking to the leader once more. “Issa good or bad?” she asked, motioning to the skies above with her snout.

Freyja presses on about the storm and Thuringwethil isn’t sure how to answer her. She’s not much of a naturalist beyond the basics but she wishes to aid the girl’s interest. She tries to think of a wolf within their ranks that might have the answer to these types of questions but she isn’t entirely sure who might know. Instead, she shifts a little in her spot and shrugs one shoulder indifferently. “We will have to see. I did not study weather patterns,” she confesses then with a slight frown, turning to see if the girl might be disappointed in her answer.

Despite the Heda’s answer the Goufa did not feel disappointment. Instead, the child nodded and returned her attention to the skies above, studying it carefully. She took her time in doing this, her eyes tracing every crevice of the clouds above, until she had come to her own conclusion. “I tink issa good,” she offered, turning towards the dark-furred wolf again.

Freyja determines the storm coming will be a good one and Thuringwethil nods her head. It leaves her curious to know whether or not it will cause damage to the dragon and only time would tell. Perhaps they had their own skywatch in their midst and she turns to look down at the child as she looks over the expanse of land where the sky darkens. “We will find out,” she says then with a thump of her tail, slowly lowering her rump to the ground. With nothing in particular to do, she decides to wait around if the child wants to find out.

She nodded at Thuringwethil, keeping a positive mind towards the ominous clouds that loomed in the distance. Looking towards the horizon, she fell silent as she observed what was the come. Though the Heda was not trained in determining weather, she decided to press again about information about the storm. “D’ya think it far?”  

The next question comes, without surprise, and Thuringwethil doesn’t respond right away. She tries to recollect her teachings before she’d risen to commander, when she’d been a child learning about the different skills and trades a wolf could have. Meteorology hadn’t been her chosen path but that doesn’t mean her knowledge is completely gone. Of course, when she comes up blank, she realizes she… doesn’t have a clue. With a snort, she rolls one shoulder without much of an answer. “It shouldn’t be too long if it’s coming this way,” she explains, tilting her head. The dark clouds have moved since they’ve been here but whether or not they’ll reach them or pass by will be determined. “Sometimes they have a different path.”

She looked to the Heda with disbelief as new facts were offered. “D-Dey… not always come here?” her jaw was left slightly ajar and her eyes wide as she looked to the leader dumbfoundedly. Freyja was still naively under the impression that the world revolved around their territory and the fact that the storm might not come their way was seriously throwing her off.

"Not always," she tells her. Even on the sea, they were lucky enough have a storm or two miss them in her time. "Their courses can hangs. If you watch long enough, you'll be able to tell if it's going by us or to us," she explains. It's the best answer she has and she wonders if the other wolves might know the answer. They haven't built up their core enough to have someone in every department but they could do their best. If their interest is set high enough, they'll discover on their own what Drageda can't teach them and Thuringwethil is satisfied enough with that.

To the Heda’s words, Freyja nodded. She was curious about where the storm was heading and wished to watch its progress. Looking up with a smile and a tilt of her head. “Can watch?” She wanted nothing more in that moment.

Freyja’s next question comes as expected and Thuringwethil, once more, nods her head. They are close enough to a den that, should it suddenly come upon them, they can duck away, but the distance remains in their favor for now. She makes herself comfortable, already lying down, and reaches over once to nudge the girl before her focus turns back to the sky.

With the acceptance from the dark Heda, Freyja smiled and shifted herself accordingly so that she could get more comfortable. She had no idea how long it would take for the storm to arrive, but she was hopeful that it would be soon. Drawing her attention to the horizon for the long-haul she smiled and watched on without another word.