"Aaneth!"
A voice, lifted in annoyance and outrage, echoed from some far off place, following a green dragon as she dove from her weyr ledge and gracefully descended to land not far from High Reaches' lake. In her jaws, she had a swathe of colorful fabric, strategically cradled so as not to be pierced by her draconic teeth. It was a beautiful thing, a cut of a Harper's finest linen, and tooled to perfection with intricate designs. Aaneth wanted it, but Finch wasn't so willing to part with it. So she did what she had to, and once Finch wasn't looking, Aaneth seized her opportunity and her prize, absconding like a thief at market with such a pretty piece of apparel.
But Aaneth had one problem: being a dragon, her paws weren't exactly suited to donning a scarf, and her physiology made wearing one difficult too. But she had her ways. With no Finch here to be so kind as to help her, she would need to seek assistance from an alternative source. It was a warm, fine day of spring, sunlight setting her hide aglow, and it would certainly be easy to find someone who'd be willing to help her equip her pilfered and hard-won scarf.