Nonsense. You only wish I was small enough to fit through doorways once more. Khamaith’s tone is warm and sleepy, the very tip of her chin resting on her rider’s lap as she’s lavished with attention.
Ezyzu laughed, booping her dragon on the top of her nose with the oil rag. “Don’t even pretend like you don’t wish that as well.”
Guilty. Her eye cracked open, thoroughly saturated with deep, loving purples and pinks. She yawned, turning her head away from Ezyzu politely. The day is warm, and sleep calls to Khamaith like the ocean called her to swim. Yet the gold blinks, and her eyes focus on a new pair -- a green weyrling and her rider. Hello, She greets the pair, crooning gently.
Thaliawen
