fire made flesh; and fire is power

Black paws wore a line in the dry, discolored grass of the clearing outside their den. The den of their births, and the den of their mother and aunts' births. This place was their home, and the three boys were loathe to think what life would be like if that was no longer true. When the summons to a challenge had rang out across the mountain the young dragons had not been with their mother. They had been the first of the pack to learn that Jericho and Daenerys had become mates, and on some level their juvenile young minds understood that for them to be spending more time together was normal. It was still a bit of an odd concept to grasp, that this male who had been so present in their raising - sometimes even thought of as something akin to an uncle like Taliesin or Sleekwing - was now something much more to their mother. But the pressing thoughts of whether this meant that what he was to the boys was long forgotten. Drogon had been pacing up and down the clearing since the moment his mother's howl had lifted to the skies. It had not been an answer to the challenge, but a reassurance to her pack that she would fend off this threat and return to them as soon as possible. No returning howl had yet been heard, but the voice of the challenger had not echoed through the skies again either.

"Dro would you just sit down already? She'll be back soon," Rhaegal said, his mismatched duo toned eyes occasionally lifting from where he lay upon the precipice in front of the den to watch his brother as he tracked back and forth through the grass. He was doing a pretty good job of concealing the fact that he was a bit nervous about the whole ordeal, but he reached out and bumped his nose against Kalseru's shoulder, offering her a goofy smile before he glanced up at Viserion who was sitting half way between his stationary and mobile siblings. The group of wolves were growing fast, nearing their second spring; and despite the fact that they could have moved out of the den months ago they still all stuck around. There had been a spell of time, after Dany had taken them to the peak and told them about Leonidas, that each child had taken a moment to process the information in their own ways. But the elasticity of their bonds had brought them all back together once more, and Viserion found that he did not think this information they had been given really changed anything. Molten gold eyes lifted to the sky, thinking about how much time had passed since the challenge had first been made apparent. The sun had been at its highest point in the sky, and now it had descended midway towards the western horizon where it would set behind the mountains later in the day. "She should be back soon," he said, somewhat echoing what his brother had said, but in a different tone. It suggested that if things had gone well, she should be back to the mountain soon. There was always the need to consider how badly she may have been injured in the fight. What if she couldn't get herself back to the pack lands? Drogon paused in his pacing, eyeing the nearby path that was the quickest route down the mountain. "She would want us to wait, Drogon." Viserion said, knowing that his brother was contemplating going out looking for her, and not for the first time that afternoon.

The darkened paws of the largest brother resumed their pacing, and once more the group lapsed into silence. Rhaegal heaved a sigh and rolled over, tongue lolling from his mouth as he looked up at Kalseru, wanting to distract her...and maybe himself too. As a single charcoal ear flopped over to the side a resonant howl called out to them. Scrambling to right himself Rhaegal pushed up into a sitting position. Drogon froze where he stood, head lifting and ears perking and a simple smile creased Viserion's features. With a jubilant bump of his nose against Kalseru's shoulder he leapt to his paws, taking off after the brothers that had already raced out of the clearing ahead of them. The clearing that housed their den was not so far away from where Daenerys' throne stood, its proximity purposefully close but just far enough away to give the right amount of separation. It did not take them long to get there, gangly teenage legs moving with practiced precision no matter how many growth spurts they went through.

Drogon burst into the clearing, Viserion close at one flank and Rhaegal only moments behind to take up the opposite side (and surely Kalseru was right there with them too). Their tails waved back and forth with a rapidity perhaps not seen since they were mere bundles of fluff in their youngest days. There was the slightest moment of hesitation from Drogon, glancing around at the gathering group of wolves. But he quickly focused in on the form of his mother, sitting at the base of her throne rather than atop it. This would not have concerned him if it hadn't been for the way she tucked her paw against her chest. His ears pulled back in displeasure for a moment before pricking forward once more, and the three boys jogged across the clearing, trying to keep themselves together as their mother would certainly want. But when they reached her Viserion and Rhaegal could not help but lick at her chin once or twice in adoration, careful to avoid the scrapes there, so happy to see her home again. Drogon was a bit more restrained, sniffing at the limb she held so close to her body. It was twice its normal size. "You are hurt," he said, his deep voice quiet and concerned. Garnet eyes flashed to her face and only then noticed the wound there. His brows pulled together and he felt a flash of anger, of hate for this wolf who had dared to hurt someone he cared about. He quickly glanced around at the wolves who had gathered, wondering where Ceal was. Or Semele, he knew she was training to become a healer, maybe she could help his mother now.

The softest of touches of their mother's nose to each of the necks was enough to soothe them. She spoke softly to each of her children, giving them kind smiles but also a look that said, Go on then, I am fine. Socialize with your pack. With a final lick upon her cheek Rhaegal turned and moved out through the gathered wolves, smiling at those he knew and dipping his head courteously to those he did not. All the while he was looking for Bastille. Viserion stepped back and turned to the wolf who sat at his mother's side. "Good afternoon, Pan," he said with a smile before dipping his head and moving to follow his brother. He though that his mother had the most knowledgeable advisor in Moladion and sort of looked up to him. Drogon lingered a moment longer until Daenerys motioned for him to follow his siblings, and so he did. The trio finally settled amidst the other wolves, spread out slightly so that anyone could easily approach them, but close enough that with a flick of a tail or an extended paw they could come into contact with one another.

drogon; rhaegal; viserion