It was good to be home, to settle back into some semblance of a routine and normalcy. While Viserion enjoyed cavorting about the free lands in his brothers' company, he could not say that he did not enjoy this more. He was glad to be able to support Kalseru in her reign, taking up the mantle of Queen when Daenerys had fallen beneath the vengeful hooves of a bull elk and Nymeria - her named heir - had taken to looking after her. Kalseru was, after all, more than just his Alpha and Bewilderbeast. She was his sister, his littermate, and he was proud of her. His mind, every busy and constantly working through a multitude of thoughts all at once, often wondered what might happen now that Nymeria and Daenerys had rejoined the pack. Daenerys had made it clear that her ten year reign had come to its conclusion - but what about Nymeria? He highly doubted that she had let go of her lifelong aspiration to rule the mountains. It was a conversation that the sisters would need to have at some point, and he was curious what the outcome would be. But the decision was not his to make, nor their mother's anymore. That choice lay with Kalseru.

In the meantime, Viserion had taken up his morning ritual once more. He rose at dawn, leaving the den that he now more often than not occupied alone. More and more frequently Rhaegal and Drogon did not return to the den the three brothers had shared since adolescence. Rhaegal's time was consumed by Bastille, and he had a sneaky suspicion that he would be an uncle sometime this spring. Drogon's absence, however, was a bit more concerning. There were times when Viserion was sure the brooding son of Daenerys did not even return to the mountains to sleep. He worried for his brother, but he also felt that he and Rhaegal had done all they could for their brother. Now it was up to him to find the strength to move on and find new purpose in his life.

Orange and yellow hues painted the sky as the sun peaked up above the eastern horizon, and molten gold eyes lifted to watch the spectacle for a moment. He then continued on, finding a familiar clearing on the mountainside that was slowly beginning to come alive as the early morning sun shed its light upon the grasses. Viserion placed himself at its center, admiring the dew drops that caught the gentle rays and sent them off in unpredictable patterns. Sitting down, he once more lifted his gaze to the horizon, relaxing as he watched the shifting patterns of color in the sky. Soon they would fade to a uniform blue, for there was hadrly a cloud in the sky, but for it was a true masterpiece.