Emberwood and through it all, a dying wind of change blew

he didn’t think she was rude at all. it just so happened that she might have selected the worst partner for interactive storytelling. he wasn’t very good at coming up with fanciful answers to tales of magic and dragons. he had experienced dragons for himself, and there was nothing magical about them. he thought them to be vile and wicked creatures – wolves with scales and viciousness in their eyes. still, he imagined that maia was talking about a completely different kind of dragon than what he had experienced for himself.
 
she went on with her story and he listened just as intently as he had before. she was doing a fine job with it. for all the talking, she had certain swept him up in the details of what she was saying. he had never really met someone who was quite so good at forming words. when she hummed the tune for the song, his ears twitched forward and the whiskers along his muzzle seemed to shudder. illidan scooted a few inches closer to her. his sharp yellow gaze was linked to her pale eyes.
 
“was he… was he a dragon all along?” the wildling inquired when she asked him a probing question. anxiety kicked in shortly after. illidan hoped that he had kept up with her story well enough to be making those kinds of guesses.