that’s too bad. he knows all about missing one’s homeland.

Little blush. “Thank you!!”

Oh— this new blush is more than little. “You’re too kind.”

He’s making a pot of tea. Anyone care to join?

He jumps about a foot in the air at the sight.

He’s red as a berry; he shyly buries his face in his shoulder to hide the color staining his features. “Mhm. Sure,” he objects.

A light blush appears on his cheekbones, and he huffs. “Yeah, well. I wasn’t paying attention,” he objects.

Orelon rolls his eyes and grins back, but makes no further comment. “What col—? Oh, it’s probably just the herbs I work with,” he says quickly— perhaps 𝒕𝒐𝒐 quickly. “I’m a healer.”

Orelon cocks his head, assessing the other’s threat. He hadn’t tried to hurt him that day in the forest, nor in their encounter now... but one could never be too careful. “I’m not a witch,” he replies with a chuckle.

“Well, I do use ‘herbs and whatnot,’ but my kind calls them healers,” he insists petulantly. Orelon can never be too careful— dragons have been hunted for too long for him to let his guard down.

He hesitates before answering, but eventually replies, “Yes. I’m a dragon,” he replies. “There aren’t many of us left, of course, but I heal those who are.”

“Yes, a dragon, now shush!” he whispers urgently. “Jeez. No need to spread it around.” He’s running a hand through his curls, leaving them in disarray.

He blushes a little at how surprised he is, staring down at the table for a long moment. “Yep,” he chuckles shyly, interlacing his fingers in his lap.

He’s met plenty of werewolves in his day, and they carry a very distinct scent— yes, Orelon can tell he isn’t human. The dragon shrugs. “I mean, there aren’t many of us. It makes sense.”

blinks.

He isn’t sure who those people are, but... “Hello?”

One can never be too careful with strangers. “I’m Orelon,” he replies, voice nearly a mumble. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, to intrude.”

Ah, something they have in common, then— though Orelon has no clue who’s done it. He shakes his head. “I’ve been called many things, but never Ana,” he replies. “So— who were the people you were calling to? Your friends?”

huh. he seems very nice.

...What are the potential consequences?