Dragoncrest Cliffs could you be mine forever just in case it exists?

Once Thuringwethil has stretched out her tired limbs, and given her fur a shake (with a dramatic stumble that almost resulted in her falling to the cavern floor), the urge for relief takes over. It would be easy to use the patch close to the opening, where the water collects from the lake but she decides against it and works on the uphill battle out of the cavern.

When she returns, she notes the strong scent of Eske passing through but does not see the young woman until, on her way back in from the private beach she hears the call of her title. Her ears sweep forward and she wags her tail loosely behind her, not realizing she doesn’t quite have the energy to keep it flagged. The smell of blood, however faint, catches her nose and she takes a few slow steps to meet the fleimkepa. “Eske,” she says quietly, raspy. A lack of use over the last week or so has put a damper on it but is has improved after speaking to her children a little.

Thuringwethil blinks a little and tries to stifle a yawn, but she steps close once to note the scratch on her nose and softly, she lets her tongue wash over the girl’s nose in a motherly fashion. She cannot use her energy properly serving Drageda as Heda but at least she can make what little effort one-on-one until her energy and stretch has been restored.