Gwyn didn’t spend as much time lying down as this Roscorro did, evidently. Perhaps, she thinks to herself, it was because she was a unicorn, and he was a dragon. Having never met a dragon before, she concludes it’s entirely logical that their species preferred to have the cold, hard earth pressing into their sides while they dozed, and flits an ear towards the sound of his settling. She simply ignores his gesture to join him; her mind is still too busy, and besides, she usually slept on her hooves, prepared to face the “anything” her father told her to be ready for, as her people had for time immortal.
His offer to help her find her lost father is one that is heard, initially, with excitement, albeit a small measure of doubt. Looking over at the resting dragon-man, the girl considers accepting immediately until the giant fellow adds, “I could really use the help.”
Her resulting snort is short and causes a large plume of breath to appear before her, and her eyes roll as she returns their focus to the fire.
“I’m not a baby,” she declares into the fire, feeling her heart rate rise as she directly challenges the words of the much larger than her dragon-man, her long, lion’s tail swaying irritably behind her, “I already know about a lot of things, like doom and death and Kaos and his beasties, so don’t treat me like I’m still a milk-drinker.”
|
Solanis
