Sleeping Dragon hollow body weather

@Freyja

 
The girl had grown considerably in the past months. She was beginning to take the shape that she would when she had reached full adulthood. The rich cinnamons had faded somewhat from her pelt, but the startling silver of her underside was as beautiful and dazzling as ever. Her top coat was cloaked in a dusty and pale brown. Still, flecks of the butterscotch coloring seemed to dapple her back and shoulders. Her eyes had shifted from the startling baby blue into a soft and light champagne coloration. The chaser of the storm was a peculiar contrast to her siblings. Freyja had taken the shape and coloring of their mother, where their brother and other sister were the yin and yang of the group. They did not look to belong to the same family.  
 
Thyri moved like a spectral ghost around the geysers of the pack. Her head was placed lower toward the earth and her pale gaze traveled along the plums of steam that rose from the ground. The fur along her neck and shoulders stood rigidly against the cold breeze that had infiltrated their lands. The breath of winter was upon them and it would not be long for the first snow to fall – the first snow of the young girl's life.  

Thanks for starting. <3

The impending Winter was something that laid heavily on the Feisripa’s mind, amongst the other matters that she constantly kept in consideration. She was unsure of how the pack would fare in the colder seasons, but, regardless, she was ready to face it. Along with her preparations for the unexpected, Freyja also continued to learn more about the history of Drageda and her mother’s pack, taking in all that she could as she followed her aspirations for leadership one day.

Like her siblings she had also grown considerably. The puppies of the pack were in the midst of the growth spurt. But, despite this, Freyja found that she was not growing as quickly as her siblings. She remained smaller than they did, taking from her mother’s height and physique. She was not ashamed by this and instead embraced it, knowing that it gave her a certain advantage when she hunted.

A badger trail had lead her to the geysers that day. Carefully, she tip-toed through the rugged area, keeping herself alert in the event that she would come across another piece of prey. Her sister’s scent had been fairly strong when she had entered the field, but she had ignored it in favor of something that she actually cared for. Thyri had lost her respect upon their last meeting and she did everything in her power to avoid her. But, as fate would have it, the two would cross paths again.

It was as she tracked that she saw the limber form of her sister in the distance and just as quickly as she had spotted her sister a sneer spread upon her features. She did not acknowledge her and, instead, found herself attempting to navigate so that she could track and keep her distance at the same time.

 
The scent of Freyja did not hit the girl. She kept to her route and sniffed at the earth. The ground was stiff and rigid from the chill of the morning air. Thyri's pads ached with the cold that they had never experience before. If she had known that her sister trailed further behind, there would have been a greater attempt at making the tracking more difficult. Instead of this, the stormchaser drew her skull upward and peered forward with squinted eyes. The steam from the geysers filled the air with an abnormal heat against the chilly air. She was grateful for the reprieve from the bite of autumn. If she dared to get closer to the steam, she feared that it would have a far more severe nip than the cold on the air, so she trailed around the pools with careful steps and tested the heat with a swish of her tail.  
 
There was a sputtering noise that sounded behind her, and the girl turned her head toward the noise with furrowed brows. Her muzzle crinkled with the wind as it carried the familiarity of her family, but Freyja was too far behind for Thyri to notate which sibling was in the vicinity. Instead of taking the opportunity to explore further, she took an immediate right and began headed toward the thick and jagged rocks of their territory. If she could lure the shadow to the boulders, the dragon imagined she might have more of a chance to see who was wandering about the geysers.  

Running into her sister was the last thing that she wanted to do. After all, after their last meeting, Freyja had silently sworn that she wanted very little to do with her sibling. Thyri had been nothing but mean to her and Freyja knew that she did not need that kind of negativity in her life. But there was something compelling to the Feisripa’s treatment that wanted her to forgive Thyri and for them to make nice.

It was these feelings that drew Freyja to a pause as she watched on as Thyri slithered into the tangle of jagged stone. Blindly, she picked up the pace again and followed as curiosity overcame her rational side.

Had she known the tracker to be Freyja, young Thyri would have made a greater effort to escape the wandering hunter. She was no fool; while she truly believed herself to be stronger and more suitable a dragon than the slate-coated sibling, the storm chaser did not wish to push against the presence of the princess. Instead, she thought it best to keep to herself.
 
Where Freyja thought her a mean-spirited pariah, Thyri believed her actions to be necessary and a valid part of growing into a true dragon born. Their last meeting had set the tone for the adults they were destined to become, and while it was almost unfair to base such an assumption on the actions of children… it was how she was beginning to think.
 
Trekking higher, the stormy child found herself a perch and watched with a keen set of pale brown eyes. The chilling winds tousled her pelt and she shivered against it. In spite of the frigid air, she found herself exhilarated as she awaited her follower.

The cogs in her mind churned a she found herself almost mindlessly following Thyri into the tangle of rocks. Just as she was about to make her ascent, the child found herself freezing in favor of surveying the area around her.

Though she knew where Thyri had gotten off to, she lingered as curiosity of her sister’s reaction overcame her. Perhaps now it was her turn to lead and for Thyri to follow.

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The child crackled with the ferocity of the storms. She breathed deep and scurried up a steep incline of stone before making a point to stop and watch. When finally, the shape of a slate-coated figure appeared, she glowered and lowered herself so that she might not be seen. Her pale gaze drifted over the form of her sister and she drew her tongue over her lips thoughtfully. Once Freyja had moved a little further, she poked her head out slightly and watched the young hunter prowl forward. A snicker fell from her lips and she moved to leap up further along the stones. Thyri was a fan of higher ground and she had a feeling she would hold an advantage from her perch. Still, she knew Freyja to be a good tracker, and keeping herself above the girl would make that task far more difficult. For that time, she was satisfied simply to watch… to observe, and perhaps to learn something of Freyja that she had not yet known.

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Her gaze scanned all about in her brief pause, eager to pinpoint exactly where her sister had gone. When her sight failed her, Freyja began to rely on her other senses. She gently dropped her muzzle to the ground, sniffing at the worn slate in an attempt to pick out Thyri’s scent. At first, this proved to be difficult, but as she went on to sniff, the argent-furred child finally picked out the Goufa’s scent from the others. Her ears swiveled atop her head in the moment as she redirected herself up the mountainside, following her young sister’s steps as she advanced. This game of their lasted for quite some time with Freyja never really coming across her sister. Frustrated, she eventually gave up her search in favor of a scent trail from a rat.