Moonstone Quarry hurt me? you can’t — i’ve got mounds of thick skin

"that'd be a shame," drogon concludes in reference to turning into a pumpkin after midnight but adds, because he's vain and cannot actually help himself: "but i'd be the best looking pumpkin around." he quips, pompously. as she can't see him, his appearance and whether she finds it as aesthetic as he does is unclear but that's of little matter to the ansbjørn. he's never been one to give much thought to what other people thought about him ...except when he did. caring about the opinions of others was far too exhausting to do it ore than was absolutely necessary and thus, in general, drogon stuck with not caring in general.

her tail beat against him and he lets out a low, playful huff. it doesn't actually hurt — at least not for any longer than a few seconds that it smarts after initial contact — but he feels the urge to subtly tease her about it nevertheless. he doesn't verbally answer her but follows as she heads towards the light that glows in the depths of the cave. as she leans against a stalagmite he brushes alongside her, glacial gaze focused upon the glow from above. it reminded him of a jeweled night sky, a miniature galaxy right here in the depths of this cave. the leijona makes an appreciative noise in the back of his throat and studies the bejeweled cavern ceiling.