Syr's face turned an even darker shade of red at the female's comment. Was she flirting with him? He cleared his throat as she displayed her own flames, a haunting crimson tipped in black. Impressive, he thought, wondering if Methusela's flames were black with red.
"Anyway, this will only take a minute," He explained, walking into the trees. He took off his sword belt and pack, wrapping the former around the later, and disrobed, stuffing the clothes inside while he shivered in the rain. Once that was finished, he braced himself. This was probably going to knock over a few trees.
The man exhaled slowly, releasing the bonds of the Life magic that held him. The air around him shimmered and he grew, his body changing shape beneath the veil. Within seconds, he had grown to his full size. A massive blue-grey dragon stood on four legs where before a man had stood on two, its chin and jaw edged in short spikes, while a pair of long, crested horns swept back from the top of his head. All down his spine and tail were dorsal spikes, webbed in-between with the same off-grey membrane that comprised his wings, which lay folded across his back.
Standing at twenty feet off the ground at his shoulders, Sirushar's head and long, scale-armored neck rose well over some of the younger trees. He carefully shouldered past them, back onto the path with his human belongings in one claw. Looking down on the smaller dragon with glacial blue eyes, he smiled pleasantly, his scars wrinkling slightly. "Ready to go?" He asked, his voice deep and rumbling like thunder on the mountains he grew up in.
