She watched, like always. Ever since her hatching, she'd disliked people watching her, but loved to watch them. Cynnath had even arranged for her to have the highest weyr on the side of the volcanic cone. It was small, left empty ever since the weyr itself had been founded because it was too high up to run hot water pipes for a bath and subject to the powerful winds that blew in the heart of winter. But Tithralith, being a dragon, had no need for hot water to bathe in and could withstand the cold winds easily if she didn't sleep right by the ledge.

Yes, the starry marked green was quite happy up in her roost, peering down at the comings and goings of the weyr proper. Her only companion was the green rukel she had brought from her home, Spyglass. The female was very playful and rambunctious, but thankfully restricted to damaging their weyr along unless Tith' or some other dragon flew her down.

That was until, in an effort to force her to make a connection newer than the day of her birth, Cynnath was to be found on her ledge one morning.