Moonstone Quarry L.O.V.E./E.V.O.L.

"drogon," the starlet repeats thoughtfully, letting the r roll by her tongue. it's not a name she finds odd or particularly compelling, and he offers nothing more, and my god the boy is a brick wall, isn't he? 

"well, drogon," she says, arranging her limbs delicately around her - sore-still from her tumble they complain, and she winces just slightly, though her natural grace is undisturbed. "y'come 'round here often?" though the question could conceivably carry flirtatious overtones, she is starkly absent of such affectations, not particularly caring for the company of men in romance and more invested in trying to push the silver lion to speak, like he is a puzzle that needs to be solved: and he is.