Moonstone Quarry hurt me? you can’t — i’ve got mounds of thick skin

A low derisive snort passed from Drogon’s black, leathery nostrils and a roll of his eyes ( though she cannot see the action ) as her rejoinder hangs in the air between them. “Are most wolves content to share a dark cave with a stranger without being even a little bit interested in their unseen companion?” He’s curious and has never been a beast to stifle his thirst for knowledge even though it has came back in retaliation a fair amount of times. Information was powerful and thus it was dangerous and Drogon has come to expect poisonous barbs just as much as truth. At her attempt to get him out of the cave Drogon cannot help but snicker. Her attempt to get rid of him only makes him want to stay more — never mind the fact that he’s not overly sure he can find the exit ( it occurs to him that if he doesn’t, at least, give it an attempt at some point that he might die in here ). There is a swell of defiance beneath his breast, familiar and warm. Once a delinquent always a delinquent. “You don’t actually expect me to just take your word for it, do you?” Drogon replies with a second, derisive snort. “If that’s the case then why don’t you leave?” He inquires more sharply then he intended to.