Moonspear be devout to hunger, child

Drogon makes a contemplative noise in his throat at her words, acknowledging them with a curt nod to signify that he knows she’s right. Yet, he does not tell her that all he’s good at is war. Fighting, causing trouble, finding trouble. That he’s good at being selfish, lying, manipulating and ambitious and …very little else. This makes him just like the Blackfeather wolves but he doesn’t say that, either. Drogon realizes he doesn’t want to ruin the perception of him that Wraen has. He doesn’t want to shatter it with the truth because he likes the attention that she’s showering upon him. He feels like he can be more honest with Hydra, feels like she would understand but Wraen eludes this innocence that he wants to protect. She tells him — with a wink that he finds oddly endearing — to not be afraid and take the path bravely. His lips part suddenly, drawing in a breath in preparation of expelling ‘I’m not afraid’ briskly but chokes on the words and closes his mouth with a resounding click of his teeth. It’s a knee-jerk reaction: to protest with those words automatically. This time, however, he doesn’t. Perhaps it’s not true no matter how many times he protests it. Maybe he is afraid.

Maybe that fear isn’t a bad thing.

His chosen path will only lead him to an early grave: the reckless abandon in which he fights. It’s a fool’s path. Drogon understands that he needs to fight smarter: to pick his battles and to acknowledge that he doesn’t need to win every battle. That each, win or lose, will lend it’s own amount of wisdom and growth. “Maybe I’ll try to be that hero.” He finally speaks, swallowing thickly. He has a feeling that it’s going to be a long and arduous path and maybe he’ll fail but he won’t know unless he tries.

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