Lindarion circled him once.
The dragon didn't move.
But that pressure was still there. Heavy. Not hostile. Just constant.
'You're listening. But you're not submitting.'
That was fair. Lindarion wasn't sure he deserved that kind of trust anyway.
He stepped back and crouched again, arms resting on his knees. "You're going to get us killed."
Ashwing blinked slowly. If he felt guilty, he didn't show it.
"I mean, I get it," Lindarion muttered. "Sudden evolution, overwhelming hunger for ambient mana, basic disrespect for structural integrity—I've been there."
The dragon's snout tilted slightly. Not mockery. Just interest.
"Don't give me that look," Lindarion said. "You're the one who grew a second spine and decided gravity was optional."
Ashwing huffed a breath. A small one. Barely there. But warm.
Almost like agreement.
Lira finally spoke. "How long before he loses control again?"
Lindarion stood slowly and didn't turn around. "He hasn't lost control."
"Not yet."
