Moonspear save me from curious conscience

for @Lyra & @Korei Julia if you want to toss her in here, cody! :-)

Drogon studies the red berries that stand out in stark contrast to their pointed, green leaves with interest. He’s seen a few wolves eat berries in his life and though he’s since questioned why — he’s more of a meat man himself — he has that familiar urge to try. That tempting whisper that is the snake in the garden of eden. Try it. What was it going to hurt? Admittedly, it’s the same desire that overtook him the first time he clumsily stepped outside the den and ate grass ( only to abruptly discover that it did not taste good ). His ears flutter back against his skull and he sniffs at them but he has no idea what they are ( holly berries ) or that they’re poisonous. He eats the plump, vibrant red berries one at a time: cautiously at first if only because he does have some ( but evidently not very strong ) self preservation instincts. He puffs up as their sweet taste lingers on his tongue, drawing it across his jowls before he eats more of the ripe fruit the prickly plants offer.

A few minutes pass and he stretches out in the morning sun, letting it warm against his dark fur, his tongue drawing across his frosted mane in a vain, cat-like grooming ritual only to begin drooling. It is a small pool in his mouth at first and grows gradually more excessive, running out of his muzzle. His brow furrows and his muzzle wrinkles in disgust because he’s nothing if not a vain beast and drooling like that is unattractive in his mind. He draws his salmon pink tongue across his jowls in attempt to stop it and heaves as his stomach roils violently. Nothing expels from his body yet but he realizes, abruptly, that something’s very wrong in the sudden decline of energy and overall wrongness going on in his body.

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