Darkness.
Untold years of the dark.
She floated in comfortable, silken silence.
Waiting.
For one voice to call her back.
Three thousand years.
Wandering.
Lost.
Waiting.
For that voice of gravel and velvet.
Deep and cold
Waiting for it to warm her.
Wake her.
Draw forth the creature of power and strength.
Raw and wild and dangerous.
And entirely at his command.
She drifted.
Awaiting the return of her master.