Sleeping Dragon Crackjaw

Phoenix, whose greatest remedy for pain was a stern licking to the afflicted area, looked on a little blankly as Alarian schooled him in botany. He shrugged his shoulders and rejoined with: "yeah, I don't know much about flowers. They're cute or whatever but I've never been interested in finding out their use myself. I mean, maybe I've seen a poppy, but I couldn't call it by name if I have." They came riverside in that moment, his scarred companion taking swiftly to the water. He probably needed it more, considering that fit from earlier, so Phoenix was glad to take a break in their conversation to quench the unfortunate raw feeling he had in his throat.

Crouching long legs at the bank, Phoenix lapped thirstily at the surging liquid and cast his copper eyes around them out of watchful habit. His tail wagged slowly, showing his present contentment, and it wasn't long before he finished his drink and sought to keep Alarian's company rather than depart it. "So are  you from around here?" he asked, trying not to sound too much like he wanted attention.