The Ice Dragon's silver eyes flicked toward Caelthar after hearing his muttering.
Her expression soured, a faint shadow crossing her face as if his words scraped at something she disliked.
Her gaze hardened and became as sharp as ice spear.
"Will you stop?" she said. It wasn't a question. It was a warning.
The temperature around them dropped instantly, as though the world itself obeyed her displeasure.
Frost laced over the leaves, the ground stiffened beneath their boots, and even the air turned sharp enough to sting the lungs.
Caelthar jerked out of his daze. His heart was hammering as the weight of her cold presence pressed down on him.
Fear flashed across his face, his lips parting but no words coming at first.
Lyrel beside him stiffened, the frost creeping at her boots making her breath quicken.
Both of them finally bowed their heads slightly, their voices trembling.
"We apologize for our rudeness…" they said in unison.
