The green female snorted, feasting her eyes on a drake who barely looked to be in his second century, let along past his third. Obviously he wasn't just a liar, but a bad one at that. As he stood up, the turned her body to the side. It was a strange move, opening her flank and left wing for attack when most dragons tried to minimize their profile when facing off.

[color=39b54a]"Even if that were true, I'm afraid you have to show your face more often than that if you expect to keep your hunting grounds, dolt."[/color]

Suddenly, the dragoness arched her body to the side, her head whipping towards Genrit with a loud hiss, the black flesh of her mouth glistening wetly behind sharp teeth. Something viscous and sticky and warm splattered against him, missing his eyes, but only just. The sweet rotting-fruit smell intensified. 

The reason for her strange posture was explained an instant later when the thin end of her long tail whip-cracked across Genrit's snout, breaking a tooth and bloodying his nose, though the strike didn't have quite the dizzying effect she had hoped for. She danced away towards the cover of the trees.