There was still much to do within the lair. The holiday were over, but Winter seemed to just be beginning.

Aurthur tended to the young ones and Tiamatus, who had come down with the chills. Momma made her own rounds, feeding the children and hatchlings.

Sitting near the entrance once she had finished her rounds, horned head studied the entranceway of the lair.

She would soon be hunting the market for fabric. Something light, and waterproof, yet durable and able to withstand the bitter cold of the mountains.