Sleeping Dragon firesuite

Sangilak waited for him to obey, and when he did her eyes fell to his tongue, looking for signs of poison or else residue of what it was upon his tongue. There were no signs of the former, but the dryness of his tongue was telling. Taeror, she informed him with a grunt. Her look darkened as her brow furrowed. She revealed to him the reason behind her agitation by spitting the simple word: Tokonartok, each word again in a voice that he would only be able to hear beneath the whipping wind and the roaring geyser that spewed each time she spoke, as though it echoed her sentiment. The word was said as though it might pose a question, but there was nothing to be answered: what if it had been? He would have died. The strong survived, after all. Sangilak breathed deep but shook her head. He must have known it was not poison, to have licked it; surely he investigated it. Her stormy expression seemed to beg that question of him.