Hic Sunt

She woke up, stretched her stiff limbs with untamed pleasure and after the much-needed exercise, she set off southward. She was ravenous.

She picked up the scent of game and followed it.

It grew ever stronger and shortly, she beheld flocks upon flocks of sheep grazing on grassland stretching where there she remembered thick woods.

Her mind tapped into the collective memory of her kin for she’d slumbered deeply for ages. This place, it was still the Noon Territory.

Hic sunt homines, said the description.

This wasn’t a practical joke, the wyvern realized. The British Isles were getting seriously crowded.