Redtail Rise but my god, you are divine

Drogon watches her with unbidden perplexity for a beat before his own teeth bare at her in retaliation as she turns, bears her teeth and lets out a sharp yelp. For all the noise and fuss she was making one would think he physically lashed out  and attacked her as opposed to simply calling out to her. “What is the matter with you?” The soturi demands to know, the words tearing themselves from betwixt his lips on rasping voice cracking on a few words (to his humiliation) as it balances precariously on that line between boyhood and adulthood (ah, the woes of puberty!) Her change was abrupt — if he’d have blinked he would have missed it; but she is all docile now. Umbra dusted hackles bristle with unshaken unease at the abrupt turnabout she displays, even going so far as to ask — or assume, perhaps — that he is Cascada’s friend. She isn’t wrong but there is an instinct to protect Cascada that she triggers within him. He wasn't so sure he liked the idea of someone so easily able to be aggressive and then in two seconds flat perfectly amiable as if the aggression had never happened at all near Cascada. Drogon's maned chest puffs out, absent vainglory. It is meant to make him look bigger (though he is growing plenty big as it is); one day it would be used as an intimidation tactic. “I’m her companion,” He finally responds after a few seconds of debate (though he knows there is no use denying it), his glacial gaze focusing intently upon the stranger. “How do you know Cascada?” Drogon inquires less with curiosity and more with expectation.