Moonspear but when it comes you close your window

Drogon’s lips press together to form a pensive line, his ears pivoting atop his skull as Terance explains that constellations are shapes or pictures in the sky. Drogon looks skeptically at the night sky that yawns wide and infinitely above them realizing that he more than likely lacks the imagination necessary to see to such things in the littering of stars that break the velveteen darkness above them. Oh, how he has the devil’s knack for weaving stories but sat him down in front of the sky and ask him to find the lion constellation and he’d never find it. Not even if it was pointed out to him. Evidenced by a real life example as Terance starts at a star and Drogon unsure which of the billion or so stars he was supposed to be looking at tries to follow Terance’s pointed path — to no avail. He’s supposed to be looking for a ram but he still just sees dots. No lines, no outlines. Just peppered dots that blink out at him — some much brighter than the others. “…I don’t see it.” Drogon admits, glimpsing as Terance to judge the older male’s reaction. “I don’t think I’m anywhere near imaginative enough to stargaze.” As far as Drogon is concerned: it takes a talent that he simply doesn’t have and he finds no shame in admitting that. He might look like his nightingale mother but it’s clear that her creativity skipped him. Instead, he’s much more pragmatic: like his cutthroat father’d been.