Jargon landed with a crash in front on the gates to the school, landing nearly on his knees. His wings folded neatly against his back and he let out a hard breath, smoke coming out from his nostrils. He wore his full armor, his dragon shaped helmet on his head. His bag was hanging on the front of his body, to prevent it from getting in the way. He now adjusted his backpack to his back, and removed his helmet. His breath was slightly fast yet steady. He flew a long distance to get here. He walked up to the gate, his large sword hanging from his hip. He removed his helmet, holding it underneath his arm. He looked at Third and said," my apologies, Third." His voice was rough and deep sounding, as you might imagine a dragon's voice might sound. Even over the breif period, he seemed to have gotten stronger, with more muscle. He nodded to Azlef, his scales creating a slight bang sound. His scales were as hard if not harder then the metal for his armor.