Even at six feet, including her horns, the crimson-scaled fire-breather has no size on the white dragon whatsoever. Her impish grin dissolved into a concerned wariness and she backed up a step or two as the deadly visage swung down to face her. Close, uncomfortably so due to the anger in Genrit's eyes. Strangely, the heat washing over her was of little consequence compared to the gleam of weapons lurking behind his lips. If there was anything in the brief staring contest for Drache to be proud of it was that she didn't look away, but the only reason she didn't turn tail and run is that she couldn't quite remember how her legs worked, and there was a thought that if she did run, it might only make him more likely to give chase, like a cat after a mouse!

Her usual exuberance cowed, Drache gave a tilt of her horns. [color=ed1c24]"I never thought to control you, Genrit'khaath,"[/color] her tone was somewhat hurt, softer now as the full name rolled off her tongue with ease. Whatever game she was playing with him, at the end of the day it wasn't meant to be a cruel one. [color=ed1c24]"I just thought a drake in an ice cube might be a bit different than the ones I'm used to. Seems I was right, but not in the way I hoped."[/color]

She bent down and hoisted the bag of gold over her shoulder, moving cautiously under his fell gaze. He didn't have to tell her twice to take it. [color=ed1c24]"And now I must say farewell, because I have a long walk ahead of me."[/color]

Stars twinkled as Drache turned without further ado and her talons carried her to the north and west. But after a dozen paces or so she turned in profile to look back at him. [color=ed1c24]"You know...there are a lot of [i]blue[/i] dragons in Pyresia."[/color]

Not expecting a reply, she turned and disappeared down the hill towards the forest.