Maybe This Time [Possible M]

[DragonSong]

"Oh, my fath--"

Azalea snapped her mouth shut and quickly ducked her head. For what must have been the twentieth time that day, she found herself very glad that dragons couldn't actually blush. Her claws kneading anxiously at the soft earth as she quickly snapped up a haunch of meat and tossed it back, using the chewing as an excuse to buy herself some time.

"I just...sort of picked it up, I guess," she replied after a few moments, hoping her tone was as blithe and unbothered as she was aiming for. "I've been here a while, after all, I'm...sure I've picked up a few more humanish mannerisms."

Was that plausible? She hoped so. Her stomach lurched guiltily for lying to him, but she didn't see that she really had any other choice.

Clearing her throat, she snapped up another piece of meat, chewing a little more sedately this time.

[Paladienne]

Daxten looked up at her with a confused expression, catching her slip. But since she seemed not to want to elaborate, he didn't press the question. After all, if she didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't going to make her. But then when she continued talking, her voice wavering as she spoke, Daxten realized she was lying to him. He'd gotten pretty good at picking up what was truth and what was a lie in a person's voice - or dragon, in this case - but he'd also gotten better at not speaking his mind. That incident had taught him the virtues of silence, especially when someone didn't want to speak of something they didn't want to talk about.

So Daxten shrugged and turned his attention back to the fire, pretending to accept her answer and explanation as truth. After all, what did it matter if she was lying to him about this one thing? So long as she didn't lie to him when their lives depended on it, he could let a couple slide about her personal life.

"Well," Daxten said at last, "it's pretty efficient. I guess if we succeed and graduate together, I won't have to worry about dressing any kill we make while hunting together."

[DragonSong]

"Yeah, I can take care of that," Azalea agreed with a low rumble of amusement. She was glad he hadn't tried to press the issue, and she rather hoped he'd just forget her slip soon, if he'd noticed it at all.

She lowered her head to tear off another hunk of meat and tossed it back. Her wings flexed and shivered against her back as she swallowed, and a faint chill radiated off her scales--the same chill that was a near constant, but it seemed that when she realized it spread further.

Which was essentially true; the cold was a part of her, and she typically had to exercise a certain amount of will to keep it relatively contained. Now that she was no longer on duty, and the hunt was over, she found that she was...well, actually relaxed. It was the first time in a while that that had happened, now that she thought about it.

"...You know, they're sending trainees out on a basic patrol in a few weeks," she noted suddenly. "Only three pairs. It's supposed to encourage...friendly competition." She wasn't entirely sure herself where she was going with that. She'd never really cared about the occasional "prize" that their trainers would dangle in front of them to encourage them to work harder, and she doubted she was the only person--or dragon--who thought patrol wasn't exactly a reward.

Still...it would get them out of the city, which she hadn't really done since she'd joined the corps three years ago.

[Paladienne]

Daxten looked up at her from his meal as she spoke about the trainees being sent out for a basic patrol. It seemed too soon for that, he thought, but who was he to argue? Maybe Dragon Riders were trained in the field at a faster rate than normal soldiers? He didn't know. But he figured he needed to learn quickly, and he hoped Azalea would help him.

"So... does that mean we have to compete against the others in order to be chosen?" Daxten asked. "Or do you not want to be chosen? From what I remember about patrol..." His memory jumped backwards in time, and he looked away from Azalea, his gaze pointedly staying away from her tail, "it wasn't something you wanted to do. You had to do it, because it was part of your job, but it wasn't... like a reward or anything."

He focused on the fire, idly picking at the cooked meat on the spit in his hand and eating a few bites before licking his fingers free of grease. "Is that something you want to do? Try and win patrol duty?"

[DragonSong]

"I--I don't know," Azalea stammered out on instinct, almost startled into honesty. "I mean... Yes, the idea is for trainees to compete against each other during training. Sometimes there'll be tests that they tell us are tests, sometimes not."

She sighed and let her hand drop to rest on her paws, having finished with her portion of the deer. Absently, she began sweeping her tail back and forth over a section of soft earth, gradually carving a shallow divet into the ground. "I know it's not...well, it's probably not all the important. It is just a quick patrol assignment, no more than a week out. But it's supposed to be...I don't know, an opportunity, I suppose. A chance for dragons and their partners to prove what they can do in the field."

She shuffled her wings in a draconic shrug and twisted to scoop the remains of the deer into the shallow dip in the earth. "You're right, it's not--it's not important. It doesn't really matter, forget I mentioned it. Guess I was just trying to let you know, since the others will have already been told," she mumbled, feeling awkward, and ducked her head again.

Honestly, she didn't have an answer to his question: she didn't know if she really wanted to be chosen for the probationary patrol assignment, but she knew she was supposed to want it.

[Paladienne]

Daxten studied Azalea for a moment before he turned his attention back to his meal. "I don't get you," he whispered under his breath. One moment, she was all gung-ho about doing what she wanted, and now she was waffling about the decision. Daxten didn't care either way. He was going to prove himself one way or another, and he was going to help Azalea one way or another.

He ate quietly for a while, then said, "If you think it's important, then it's important. And it's not something that we can easily forget, not if the others know about it. They're going to be watching us, and I don't mean our fellow cadets." Daxten turned his attention onto her, a strange glint in his eyes. "The ordained Riders and the instructors are going to be watching us, too. Don't forget what they told us today. This is our last chance. If we don't succeed here, we might as well pack it in and go back to where we came from."

He let that sink in for a moment before he continued, "Is that what you want? To give up and not even try? We don't have to strive to be chosen. We just have to prove to them that they're wrong about us. That we can, when they tell us we can't." Daxten turned his attention back to the fire and frowned. He couldn't think of anything more to say on the matter. In the end, the decision rested with Azalea, not him. He sighed then, looking back at the dragoness with a small smile. "Whatever you decide, I'm with you. Now and always."

[DragonSong]

Azalea snapped her head up and around, blinking at him as he spoke with a sudden and seemingly newfound steeliness. She narrowed her eyes slightly, the ridges above her brows furrowing together just a bit--as much as scaly skin would allow.

"I don't want to give up," she replied sharply, automatically. It wasn't until the words left her mouth that she realized how snappish she sounded. She gave her head a sharp little shake and reared back slightly. "No one said anything about giving up," she muttered almost sullenly after a brief moment of quiet.

She fell silent again quickly, glancing to the side while the tip of her tail flicked back and forth across the ground like an irritated cat. Her claws kneaded at the earth, gouging small furrows in the soft dirt.

"...It's not just my decision," she sighed after another moment or two. "We're partners, Dax. We make choices like this together." She twisted her head around to look at him, violet eyes just a tad softer than normal. Her gaze held his for a moment, then she dropped her head down onto her paws with a small sigh. "I guess that's why I mentioned it. I...didn't know if it would be important to you or not. I just wanted you to know...well. What everyone else does. Even the playing field, as it were."

[Paladienne]

"Did you not hear what I said?" Daxten asked, finishing his meal and then leaning back on his hands so he could look up at the canopy of trees above him, and the sky beyond that. "I said I'm with you, whatever you decide. Moron."

He took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh. "Yeah, we're partners. And we're gonna disagree about a lot of shit. We're going to agree about a lot of shit, too. Being partners... it isn't about what one of us wants more than the other. It's about what we want, equally. And you know what? I'm tired of people looking down on me for... for..." He clenched his teeth, a lump forming in his throat. Black memories rushed up at him then from the depths of his mind, threatening to overwhelm him. Somehow Daxten beat them back, somehow he kept his reaction to just clenching his fists and grinding his teeth. He continued, his voice tight, "for everything. I want to show that I'm not what they all think I am. And I know it's going to be long and hard and that I'm going to want to give up dozens of times, but somehow I'll find the strength to keep moving forward."

Daxten rubbed his palms on his knees, trying to ease the aching in his knuckles. "Winning a spot to go on this trip? Yeah, it's not important to me. And it's not important because I've just started this dragon rider business and I don't know what to do or what's expected of me. So I don't think I really deserve it. But if you wanted it? If you wanted to do it? I wouldn't get in your way. And I'd do what I needed to support you."

[DragonSong]

Silence. For several long, slightly tense moments, there was only silence.

Then Azalea snorted quietly and darted her neck forward to give Daxten's shoulder a quick, sharp nudge, not quite enough to knock him over but still plenty firm.

"Did you just call me a moron?" Her eyes narrowed as she drew her head back, but there was a soft glint to their depths, a slight tilt to her head that betrayed playfulness in the expression rather than annoyance. Exhaling heavily, the dragoness arched her neck and curved her body around into a tight crescent. "Well. Your determination is admirable, if...maybe a little martyr-ish. This is my last shot too, remember?"

She lowered her head again to rest on the ground beside him, flicking her eyes back and up to look at his face. "If you feel like you want to give up...that's what I'm here for. That's when you come to me, okay?" She flicked her eyes away again. "Anyway. That's why I was... That's why I told you at all, I suppose, I just was...trying to foster some partnership. Trust. I don't know."

Another breath, then she lowered her voice a bit and added a little hesitantly, "And if you...need support. About anything. Whatever it is you can't talk about yet. I'm...here for that too."

[Paladienne]

"I guess I'm just a martyr," Daxten said, shifting to raise his arm and scratch at the scales across Azalea's nose. "Look... we've known each other for all of a day. We were thrown together by fate, I guess, and we haven't exactly been given the time to learn about each other like the other candidates probably have. I get the feeling that they're more advanced than we are, despite being in the same class." He shrugged and smoothed his palm down between her nostrils and around to her cheek, lightly running his thumb over the cool scales just below her eye. He'd always thought dragons were warm, but Azaela was cool, like a fresh snow fall. Just touching her felt refreshing. "I'm not one to give up. Even when things look... bleak... I don't. I can't."

Those memories were rising again and it took all his willpower to force them back down and away. Despite what she said about talking to her about them, about what he couldn't talk about yet, he couldn't tell her. If she knew... if she knew what he had done... what had happened... she'd turn away from him. Those who knew had. And Azaela, who didn't really know him at all except for what she had seen today, would abandon him in a heartbeat. He knew it. So if he really wanted this chance, that was one secret he would keep to himself.

Daxten shook his head to dispel the black thoughts and leaned back on his hands then, raising his gaze to the sky. "But if I can come to you if I feel like giving up, if I ever do, then you can come to me, too. And as far as fostering trust... Hey, I trusted you not to drop me when we're flying in the sky, didn't I?" He looked at her with a grin that he really didn't feel. "And you trusted me enough to let me on your back. To let me close. So we're working on it. A relationship is always a work in progress, right? So... we just have to keep working on it and learning about each other. And the first step to that is heading back and getting a saddle for the two of us. Don't you think?"

[DragonSong]

A soft crooning sound rose up from Azalea's chest to settle in her throat and she tilted her head slightly into his touch; it was an almost entirely involuntary response, and when she realized what she was doing her eyes widened a bit and her tail twitched.

Embarrassed, she pulled her head back and exhaled sharply, her breath coalescing in a puff of icy crystals. She was a dragon, godsdamnit, not a house cat!

"Right!" Jumping on the change of subject, she nodded quickly when he mentioned the saddle. "Well, if you've had enough to eat we can get going now. If you want." She shifted her bulk slightly, pressing herself a little closer to the ground in an effort to make climbing onto her back easier.

If she was being honest, she was still sort of worried. Well, that was pretty much a near constant state nowadays, but this time she was worried about something specific. Daxten. It was...new, being worried about an actual person, her partner, rather than just...the situation she found herself in. In a strange way, it was almost a relief. It allowed her to focus her energy on something she felt like she might actually be able to affect, to change. Hopefully.

[Paladienne]

Daxten shook his head with a small smile, amused by her sudden enthusiasm. Really, her worry didn't bother him. Her words didn't bother him. Either he would tell her or he wouldn't. Perhaps there would be a day where he could tell her what had happened, what had changed him, what had made it so this was his last chance. Why she was his last chance. But... right now he couldn't even bring himself to remember those days, to remember what he'd done, what had been done to him, what could have been if they hadn't been rescued. He pushed himself to his feet and began to douse the fire with earth, covering the flames until they were smothered out. He made sure that they were indeed dead before he began to clean up their site a little, trying to put it back to the way it was before they had arrived.

It was an easy task, considering the remains of Azalea's kill could be utilized by the other things that lived in the forest. Taking one last look to make sure the site was back to its original state as much as it could be, Daxten moved toward Azalea and climbed up onto his spot on her back. He settled down and leaned forward, assuming the position for her take off.

If he had to be honest with himself, he was kind of excited to see what saddle would be theirs. Something that was wholly the two of them, unique and no one else's. He'd seen the saddles that belonged to the others, and he began to wonder how long they had been with their dragon partners. Some time, if he could judge correctly, but he still thought he and Azalea had the advantage over them, what with her experience from her previous riders and his experience with combat tactics. He didn't doubt that the others were strong and knowledgable in their own right, but sometimes theory didn't hold up to practice. Especially when one was faced with the stress and terror of something unexpected and never before experienced.

"I'm ready when you are," he told Azalea, running his hand down her neck and then between her wings, what he remembered as the signal to take flight. Or at least, he hoped it was.

[DragonSong]

It was the signal to take flight, but Azalea hadn't been expecting it--honestly, she'd never really had a partner who'd felt comfortable just giving the physical cues without an accompanying phrase or word--and so she gave a sharp start, jerking her head halfway around to look at him before she caught herself and straightened out again, flaring her wings with a sharp snap.

Rolling her shoulders back just slightly to re-familiarize herself with the weight and feel of Daxten on her back, she trotted forward a few steps and then bounded into the air, wings fanned wide to catch an updraft that sent them rocketing into the air.

She curved into a soft bank back toward the city, flying in silence until they were over the outlying buildings.

"The smith I've heard recommended is down there, in the crafters' district," she said as she dipped into a very shallow descent, circling the west end of Ketra and gradually coming closer to the ground as she did. "I've never actually met the smith, but his son has been by the barracks a few times. He's a nice lad."

She wasn't entirely sure why she was telling him that. Maybe just to make conversation. That was typical partner thing to do, right?

[Paladienne]

Daxten listened quietly as she spoke, leaning low to prevent too much drag as she came in for a landing. He'd never met the smith's son himself, so he trusted her word on that. When she finally landed, and he was sure that he could speak without his words and breath being snatched away by the wind, he said, "Well, hopefully the son's a good reflection of the father."

He slid from her back to the ground, landing lightly and bending his knees to help absorb the impact. He looked up at Azalea and offered her a little smile. "Well, you know the way better than I do, so why don't you lead on?"

He stepped to the side to give her enough room to fold her wings and start off, though he walked beside her. It was strange, really, to be walking beside Azaela as if he did it every day, as if it was the most normal thing he'd ever done in his life. They'd only known each other for less than a day, and here he was, acting like they'd been together for years. He didn't know if that was just his projection or if he actually just was used to her already. Their day had been kind of spent getting to know each other and getting used to one another. Chalking it up to that he was just used to her, Daxten walked beside her, his eyes forward, though he was watching the people around them and watching the shops they passed by.

[DragonSong]

Dragons weren't exactly an uncommon sight in this district of the city, but still Azalea tried to mind her step as much as possible, delicately picking her way through the flow of foot traffic and occasionally curving herself slightly toward Daxten so that she could sort of shepherd him through the crowds--for obvious reason, people tended to give dragons a wide berth.

"It's that building just there--see? Looks like the forge is working." She indicated the building she meant with a swift jerk of her head, and sure enough there was a white plume of smoke feathering out from the chimney above the forge that seemed to connect to a small house.

An absolute mountain of a man stood in the entrance to the forge, arrange a display of blades that faced out onto the street. His back was to them at first, but he straightened up and swiped a hand across his brow after a moment with a sharp huff, then planted his hands on his hips and gave a quick nod, evidently satisfied with his work.

The mountain turned, and it became quite suddenly apparent that he was much younger than his massive frame might first indicate. His eyes lit on the young dragoness and her partner and a smile suddenly spread across his face, revealing the uneven dimples that marked his cheeks.

"Hey there! Azalea, right?" He raised a hand in greeting, looking between her and Daxten. "You two here for a saddle?"

Azalea blinked, then narrowed her eyes and tilted her head in a dragon's smile. "Hello, Gwaine. Yes, we are, actually, how'd you guess?"

The blacksmith's son, Gwaine, smiled crookedly and gestured for them to come closer. While Azalea couldn't fit into the forge, she could at least get her bulk off the street, and Daxten could follow the other young man inside. "There's only so many reasons a dragon comes down to a forge, and saddle fitting tends to be the most likely." His eyes flickered toward Daxten, looking him over. "Sorry, I'm being rude. Name's Gwaine, this is my Da's place. I'm his apprentice, so I've been up to the barracks a few times fitting dragons and their riders for various weapons and saddles, met Azalea once or twice. What's your name?"

[Paladienne]

Daxten remained silent as they walked through the streets, and all but stopped when Azalea pointed out the forge. Or, more accurately, stopped when she pointed out the mountain of a man standing before the entrance of the forge, arranging a display of blades. Daxten's eye ran over the blades quickly and critically. His first real introduction to weapons had been when he'd been a boy back on his parents' farm, learning how to shoot a bow and how to properly skin an animal with a hunting knife. Those weapons had been crude, the best his father could make on his own or pay for. These weapons made those crude weapons of his childhood seem like toys made out of wood rather than the stone or rare metal that they had been crafted from.

When the mountain turned, Daxten felt his shoulders tighten out of instinct, and his spine straightened. He wasn't sure exactly why he suddenly felt so threatened. Perhaps it was the man's size, or perhaps it was the memories that lurked at the back of his mind that had never gone away and didn't seem to want to go away. But either way, Daxten was stiff and tense and even though the man seemed to be about Daxten's own age or a little older, and even though a friendly smile split across his face, Daxten simply couldn't relax or let his guard down. And it didn't matter that Azalea was beside him; she couldn't soothe the sudden anxiety that flooded his system, making him hyperaware of everything going on around him.

Aware of that mountain of a man.

Daxten flinched when the man raised his hand, and he hoped that Azalea or the blacksmith hadn't seen him do it. Calm down. Calm down. This is nothing. We're just here for a saddle and that's it. It isn't like... he isn't like... Daxten took a deep breath.

Then Azalea was addressed by the blacksmith, Gwaine, and Daxten used the opportunity afforded to him by their chitchat to force down the anxiety and all the other feelings suddenly brought to the fore by this man's presence.

Then Gwaine gestured for them to follow him into the smithy. Since Azalea couldn't fit all but her head into the building, really, that left Daxten to follow the other young man inside. Swallowing hard, Daxten followed, unconsciously tensing up again when Gwaine finally looked at him and addressed him.

"Uh, Daxten," Daxten replied, forcing back the apprehension. He forced his gaze away from Gwaine and looked around the shop, astonished by the amount of armor and weaponry that was on display. He'd never seen anything like it, even in the guardroom and armory when he was a common soldier. He shifted, moving toward a rack of swords and shields to study them. They looked skillfully made, reliable and sharp, and way out of his paygrade. He hadn't been reequipped upon his return, and the equipment he'd been given in the first place hadn't been the best. "These are amazing. Your father's really skilled."

He looked toward Gwaine then, hoping that the expression on his face wasn't one of tension or anything negative. "So, yeah, we're here about a saddle for the two of us. We... well... I... don't really know what that all entails, other than the obvious."

[DragonSong]

Azalea thought she felt Daxten flinch, but when she glanced down at him he seemed fine. He imagination, then?

Deciding to put it from her mind for the moment, she curled herself up as much off the street and out of the way of the forge's main entrance as she could manage, letting her head come to rest on her front paws just in front of Gwaine's carefully arranged display of weapons.

When Daxten complimented the metalwork, Gwaine actually blushed, and Azalea found herself chuckling quietly to herself--it was just such an odd look on a man who was so intimidating at first glance, sheepish and shy. It didn't suit him, but he couldn't very well help that.

"Well, um, thanks." The blacksmith's apprentice smiled and rubbed at the back of his neck, cheeks ruddy. "Theses, are, um...these are actually mine. Most of them. Da said I could put my work out in the front, which is why I was fiddling with those things--Anyway." He cleared his throat and shot them another smile. "I'll just, uh, I'll get Da. He can do your measurements, Ser Denarym, just hold on one minute."

Azalea snorted, taken aback at being called "Ser Denarym". People didn't typically use her surname--she'd entirely forgotten that Gwaine even knew it.

[Paladienne]

Daxten accepted Gwaine's thanks with only a nod in response. He didn't know exactly what he was supposed to say in response, but he knew that he couldn't really embarrass Gwaine any further. He'd complimented the weaponry, which he supposed was embarrassment enough. At the use of the strange name - Denarym - Daxten looked toward Azalea at her reaction to it. Was that her last name? Was that a typical thing? Did dragons have last names? He thought it a strange practice for anything non-human, but he supposed that even other sentient creature had to keep track of their bloodlines somehow. He just wasn't sure if Azalea's last name was her mother's or her father's, and it seemed - to him, anyway - rude to ask.

Daxten spent his time browsing the weapons, shields, and other things that were in the shop while Gwaine went to go fetch his father for the measurements. Since Azalea didn't seem to mind him browsing, nor did she seem in the mood for conversation, Daxten was content to keep to himself, allowing his eyes to trail over the wares set out on display. He figured he could spend hours here, just looking. He decided that he would eventually need to get new equipment himself. Everything that he'd been issued had been taken from him, had been left behind, so that he couldn't cause trouble while he was... there. Being moved. Like chattel. Of course, the intent had been to sell him, probably to the highest bidder, and then who knew what his life would have been after that moment.

He shook his head to clear it and turned his attention to Azalea, watching her. He was fascinated by the idea of watching her get measured for her saddle, although he was apprehensive about his own role in it. The saddle was supposed to fit the both of them, after all. He wondered, then, how many times Azalea had gone through this, and slowly wandered over to her, reaching to pat the side of her cheek. He let his fingers trace the shape of her scales for a moment, uncertain whom he was trying to comfort more - him or her.

"So," he said quietly, "are you okay? With this, I mean."

[DragonSong]

Azalea let her head rest on her crossed paws and watched Daxten lazily as he browsed through the forge's wares. At first she was just doing it for lack of anything better to do--but then he went sort of tense around the shoulders, just a bit, it was really barely noticeable. Her eyes opened a little wider and she suddenly watched him more carefully, though she didn't raise her head; she didn't want to spook him, he seemed...a little off.

But then he seemed to shake himself out of it and she relaxed again. Her eyes slid back to half mast, and she almost convinced herself that she hadn't actually noticed anything, she was just being too cautious, hyper-aware of her new partner and any subtle shift for fear of doing something wrong.

Almost.

But she didn't press it.

If he had anything he wanted to tell her, he would. When he was ready, or when it was the right time.

She exhaled a sharp, slightly startled breath when he approached and pat her cheek almost absently. She tilted her head slightly so she could get a better look at him, but didn't pull back from the touch. It was...certainly odd, something she wasn't used to. But it wasn't exactly unpleasant.

Companionable?

In fact...she thought she might like it.

"I'm alright," she murmured softly in reply, giving him a slow blink, almost like an affectionate cat, and turning her head a bit into his hand. "I've never actually done this, but I've seen it done." She'd actually never had a partner so open to getting a saddle right off the bat--it was an expensive and sometimes lengthy process after all, most pairs didn't get their own molded saddle for a few months, instead using the generic training saddles: effective, but not particularly comfortable.

She didn't feel the need to share that. Perhaps they were being a bit impulsive, or perhaps they were...investing. In each other, as it were. With another little huff, she added, "It's just time consuming, but it's not as though it's uncomfortable. Are...are you okay? Is that why you asked?"

[Paladienne]

Was he okay? He didn't know. On one level, the answer was yes. He was fine with his current situation, even a little excited about it. He couldn't make it as a soldier, but he could definitely make it as a dragon rider. Despite having Azalea as his companion, it was pretty solitary work, unless he and she needed to work with others. Beyond that, he really didn't know how to answer her. Deep down, he knew he wasn't okay. He'd never be 'okay' ever again. He'd be fine enough, unless something happened that scratched too close to the hidden feelings he'd tamped down into the furthest recesses of his mind and soul.

For a while, he simply stroked her scales, running his fingers over the cool edges and tracing each small scale along her jaw. It was a distraction for himself, so he could order his thoughts and come up with an answer that would satisfy them both. He knew that what they were doing was unusual, since they'd known each other for little less than a day. But at the same time, he felt that what they were doing was the right thing. They were each other's last hope, so why not invest in that dream and make it a reality? Why not push each other to the limits and improve each other, and prove wrong all those people who thought that they wouldn't amount to much or fail out completely?

Finally, Daxten raised his head to stare into Azalea's eye, seeing himself reflected on her iris and pupil. His hair was a windblown mess, and there was a slight flush to his face from his earlier exertion, between flying with Azalea and hunting with her. There was a roughness to his face, too, like he hadn't gotten enough sleep, or that he was gazing at the world like it was going to turn on him, and he was desperately searching for someone to trust. How strange that that someone was right here in front of him, scales and all.

"Yeah," Daxten replied at last. "That's why I asked. I mean... this is sudden, right? Everyone else has had time to get to know each other, and you and me have barely gotten time to figure out exactly how I should sit so I don't bend your scales backwards." He gave an awkward laugh at his own lame joke, sobering quite quickly. "But... I don't think this is the wrong idea. I think... we're doing the right thing. And once we get this done, then we can show them what we can really do."

He dropped his gaze for a minute, then looked up at Azalea again, a small smile quirking his lips. "Wouldn't you like to see the look on Ambrose's face when we can do these maneuvers better than the others?"