Dragoncrest Cliffs make a fury of me

When Blixen does not give her brother the chance to speak, still trying to explain her case, she gives her a singular look and flick of her ear, following by the slight quiver of her lips. It is short lived as Artaax speaks up, offering the same thing his sister has given her. She lets out a soft sigh that appears more snort than anything, shifting her weight to look between the two. Blixen has done well in her training and Artaax has already succeeded into Dragedakru above the other children. His sister only trails him but she is not quite there. The trip, if allowed, may push her over the edge to give her the full maturity she needs to become an adult in their eyes.

They still have plenty of growing to do but Artaax has filled out for his size, albeit a little awkwardly as expected, but none of these are reasons to prevent them. It is a danger they will be facing but if they were not her children, she would offer no qualms if they were just as capable. “You may come,” she tells them. For a moment, she hears Wildfire’s voice in her head not to let them go but she shakes it off. “You will stay with the adults and avoid roaming away, do you understand? And you will be respectful to those of the Caldera when we get there. They are part of your family too.”