Emberwood daughter of stone

i'm just going to go ahead and lightly ppc lavender so we can keep this thread going! :D ♥

She leads him a little bit further but whether she heeds his advice or heeds her own instinct she does not wander too far from where they’d first bumped into one another. Drogon watches her for a moment as she sets her quartz down and begins to look for more for her collection. He glimpses around them, weary, wondering what would possess a parent to let their child wander outside of the territory as young as she even with supervision. Drogon hadn’t been quite so young when The Stranger had kidnapped him and led him horribly astray after finding him in the neighboring territory of his home but even still the two months there might have been between her age now and Drogon’s age then: it had been too easy to fall prey; and maybe that’s part of the reason why he was here, doing this. Keeping her company and shifting through dirt for rocks: because he isn’t sure if she’s wandered away and he does not want to leave her unprotected from strangers with ill-intent.

For once in his life Drogon isn’t being utterly selfish …or an utter douchebag; and despite himself he begrudgingly admits that her jubilean nature is …infectious; and that it kind of feels nice to do something for someone else.

The sound of footfalls has the guard hairs standing on end at the nape of his neck and each muscle pulling taunt in the tundrian’s body and he hesitates between the want to flee ( especially if it is an angry parent ) and the instinct to remain rooted and protect ( if it is not an angry parent ready to rip his face off ). The grey man that comes into the scene addresses her as princess and inquires about her wandering away from her mama …but it is not enough to soothe the tundrian. Words were hollow — this Drogon knows very well. He’s a master liar, after all. He’s told a lie so many times that he can no longer remember the truth. His lie has become his truth. Dragon relaxes, however, when Lavender greets her father ecstatically and explains in her partial baby-tongue the situation and introduces him as Dran.

“It’s Drogon,” He corrects softly, ash dusted ears fluttering back to rest at half mast atop his skull as he keeps his posture neutral in the presence of the girl’s father. “She stumbled across me and showed me her rock,” The tundrian indicates to the shiny quartz at the merle girl’s paws. “and demanded I help her find more.” and offers a sheepish grin in a conclusive finish. And here we are, it says, hoping that their combined explanations are satisfactory and he will not find himself on the wrong side of her father's mood.