Sleeping Dragon Paused parade

The world was wet, gray and dreary. Wildfire was tempted to stay indoors and sleep the day away. Instead, she set out into the mid-morning rain—well, it was more of a gentle mist at the moment—to find something to eat. She bypassed several caches as she headed toward the outskirts. This weather called for a hot meal. Fresh meat, she thought, licking her lips.

The damp made tracking a bit more difficult than usual but the hunter loved a challenge. Her nose skimmed over the wet grass and slick leaf litter near the territory's southeastern border. Her black tail swayed above her hips, the tip switching back and forth. Every so often, she lifted her head to squint through the watery haze, amber eyes glowing warmly in the rainy gloom.

If he was nowhere near Thuringwethil, Toxochelys rarely left Drageda’s borders. Day in and day out, he slept there, he ate there, and he patrolled there. He was unconcerned with the Larksong wolves, however; to him, they were pest more than threat, if their wiry little priest was anything to go by. Although he didn’t discount the extent of the trouble it could cause to remove pests, the individuals who strayed too far from their own pastures amounted to very little on his radar. Toxochelys guarded because it was his line of work, and not necessarily because he perceived a threat.

That misty morning, he loped along their claimed boundaries until he caught the unmistakable sight of red fur in the far off reaches of his range of vision. He slowed and stopped just for a moment before proceeding to purposefully prowl closer and closer until he picked up his pace again. He gazed at her with glimmering eyes and decided then and there that her cloak of russet and inky tail certainly set her apart from the rest. With a flick of his coppery ears and a coltish toss of his head, the young, unproven Kru wordlessly beckoned the dew-laden Bandrona to join him.

Another set of eyes glowed in the murky light, several shades darker than her own, and Wildfire found herself returning their gaze from a distance. As he moved toward her, Wildfire slunk forward too, to meet him in the middle. He was familiar in the sense that she had seen and smelled him around the territory. They had yet to properly acquaint, though, and in spite of the weather and her current hunger, the Bandrona would not pass up an opportunity to get to know a pack mate.

His physique reminded her of her father, though his coloration was quite different from Peregrine's. Wildfire blinked rainwater out of her eyes as she studied his rugged face, his titian irises and the scar on his muzzle. He cut quite an imposing figure, though the yearling knew she was his superior. That was still a strange thought to her, that she was above all other wolves in the ranks save for Thuringwethil. The Bandrona was not the type to throw her weight around in that department, though, and aside from a cocked head and slightly curled tail, she did not attempt any shows of dominance.

Instead, she smiled at the quiet stranger. "I don't think I know your name. Or if I do, I don't remember it..." she admitted with a small, sheepish laugh before introducing herself. "I'm Wildfire."

When he caught the movements she made as she began to advance towards him, he slowed to a prowl until he reached her with a fairly stretched out posture and vibrant, soggy ears that splayed in deferential greeting. He was nothing more or less than hers to command, but much like Thuringethil, she did not seem to deem asserting herself outright necessary. One of his copper ears gave a flick and sent off a spray of rain droplets, but the drizzle continued on around them as they properly acquainted themselves with one another.

"Toxochelys," he rumbled gutturally as he pronounced his name in return for the introduction she offered first. He allowed just a moment of pause to creep between them before tilting his head very slightly at her. "Your name suits you, but you don't seem to be doused by the rain," he observed with a thin, droll smile and a distinct glimmer in his alarmingly orange eyes. To him, of course, she was also Bandrona. It was more than likely that he would refer to her as such in the future without a second of hesitation to stop him or make him reconsider.

Ah, she thought when he gave his name, that's right. Upon first hearing the name, she had idly wondered if he was a toxicologist, because that would be quite fitting. But of course that was silly and she didn't mention it now. Wildfire did say, "That's a bit of a mouthful. Can I call you Tox or something?" It was the obvious choice for a nickname, though maybe he preferred Chelys or some other variation. Or maybe he strongly preferred to use only his full name, which she would attempt to oblige if requested.

When he remarked upon the nature of her own name, her lips twitched and she reconsidered keeping her earlier thought to herself. "And you don't look as poisonous as you sound," she quipped. It sounded dumb to her own ears but in a humorous way. She chortled. "I don't mind the rain," she continued, flicking her own ears to wick away the cold droplets clinging to them, "and it looks like you don't either. Hey, do you wanna join me? I'm gonna hunt down some grub."