The dragon sneezed.
It wasn't cute.
Okay, it was a little cute.
But mostly it was wet. And it left a smear on his boot that looked suspiciously like molten spit.
Lindarion stared at it in betrayal.
The dragon, who remained nameless and deeply unconcerned with manners, blinked once and went back to sleep. Its tail did the slow curl-pulse thing again, thudding lightly against the ground like it was having a dream about winning.
'Fantastic. First it claims my leg. Now my boot. At this rate, I'm going to be the proud owner of a dragon-themed rash.'
Ren had moved closer. Too close. She was lying on her stomach now, chin in her hands, looking at the dragon like it was a puzzle she meant to solve with pure audacity.
"What if it thinks you're its mom?"
"I am not its mom."
"Would explain a lot."
"I'm eleven."
"It's around the same age as you."
Lindarion stared at her. Then at the dragon. Then at the ceiling. "This cave was a mistake."
