Aamu
It doesn't make much sense, this; the dragon rubs itself against his offered fingers, much like a cat would. He can see the small, perfect scales covering its snout and cheeks, pitch black and precise in the vague early morning light—the outline of teeth through its lips, the flash of white as it gives a noise he can only assume means approval. It doesn't seem interested in giving him a go for his life, and the way it leans into his hand as his fingers work over its jaw and throat seems to be in appreciation.
The wonder he feels is plain on his face. He's glad he gave it the benefit of the doubt. He suspects this morning would've been very, very ugly otherwise, blood and reanimation fluid to stain the peaceful snow of Mourn.
"It would be an honor," he responds with mild amusement, figuring the reason the dragon is so far away from home is this woman. Likely they are bonded together. Not an uncommon thing in and of itself, though Aamu thinks he never experienced it himself (thinks Oheň was human), but to a dragon?
She looks quite ordinary. Quite Ascended, if it was indeed a hint of teeth he'd caught when she spoke. He considers asking how one finds themselves with a dragon, but she beats him to the right of first question.
Well. One's a statement (sort of). Second's a question, one that has him furrowing his brows, a perplexed look on his face. "New to Caido?" he echoes, as if he doesn't even understand the concept of what she's implying.
Which, to be fair—he doesn't.
The wonder he feels is plain on his face. He's glad he gave it the benefit of the doubt. He suspects this morning would've been very, very ugly otherwise, blood and reanimation fluid to stain the peaceful snow of Mourn.
"It would be an honor," he responds with mild amusement, figuring the reason the dragon is so far away from home is this woman. Likely they are bonded together. Not an uncommon thing in and of itself, though Aamu thinks he never experienced it himself (thinks Oheň was human), but to a dragon?
She looks quite ordinary. Quite Ascended, if it was indeed a hint of teeth he'd caught when she spoke. He considers asking how one finds themselves with a dragon, but she beats him to the right of first question.
Well. One's a statement (sort of). Second's a question, one that has him furrowing his brows, a perplexed look on his face. "New to Caido?" he echoes, as if he doesn't even understand the concept of what she's implying.
Which, to be fair—he doesn't.
You are the night-time fear
You are the morning when it's clear
You are the morning when it's clear
