Antics
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On a clear, cold morning, a small dog sized white dragon is seen flitting about Norwick. It flutters from roof top to roof top, looking for rats, mice, and small rodents. Today however, it appears just bored.
After eyeing the stream by the Grapevine Inn, it makes exhaustive passes over the south side of the creek, breathing its icy breath, until the surface is covered in a sheen of ice. There upon, it is seen making short, flying starts, then suddenly dropping on its belly, legs and wings in the air, tail held up, onto the surface.
The little dragon skids remarkably well on its scaly hide the full length of the creek, occasionally clipping a rush sticking out of the frozen water, sending the creature spinning uncontrollably.
It seems to take great delight in doing this until the suns rays make the surface slushy, and the little creature appears tired. After, it curls up under the tree on the south of the Inn, and slowly regains Myrrha’s shape before falling asleep.
