Dany rests with her back against a tree trunk, silver hair tousled and windblown, the storm having brought some measure of flush to her cheeks. Viserys once told her she slouched too much, but this time, her shoulders are hunched forward, her head ducked for a reason other than wishing to vanish. She is cradling something to her breast, protecting a child of her own, one that will not vanish upon their mission's end.
Drogon hisses his displeasure in her arms, sensing the change in the air well before she does. He had been returned to his smaller size for ease of transportation, and Dany can only pray he will grow again. As of now, the winds are too strong for him, and his tail is anchored about her slender neck like an ornamental torque.
She glances up in time to see the air part for Loki, little threads falling about his tall, slender frame. Despite the hair whipping about her face, the shadows flee her, and she is so pleased that she nearly makes the decision to run the short distance to him. Only Drogon in her arms stops her. I have missed you, she thinks to say. ]
I will blow away! [ she laughs over the roar of the winds, her disheveled appearance queerly fitting. Stormborn, indeed. ]
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Dany rests with her back against a tree trunk, silver hair tousled and windblown, the storm having brought some measure of flush to her cheeks. Viserys once told her she slouched too much, but this time, her shoulders are hunched forward, her head ducked for a reason other than wishing to vanish. She is cradling something to her breast, protecting a child of her own, one that will not vanish upon their mission's end.
Drogon hisses his displeasure in her arms, sensing the change in the air well before she does. He had been returned to his smaller size for ease of transportation, and Dany can only pray he will grow again. As of now, the winds are too strong for him, and his tail is anchored about her slender neck like an ornamental torque.
She glances up in time to see the air part for Loki, little threads falling about his tall, slender frame. Despite the hair whipping about her face, the shadows flee her, and she is so pleased that she nearly makes the decision to run the short distance to him. Only Drogon in her arms stops her. I have missed you, she thinks to say. ]
I will blow away! [ she laughs over the roar of the winds, her disheveled appearance queerly fitting. Stormborn, indeed. ]