"Bahamut my big left toe human. I have a name as well, Taele'ryth, and you'd do well to remember it," she hissed. This was one of the few times she wished she could have been larger at this stage in her life, at least age was on her side. She thrust her triangular horned face within a few inches of his to ensure the point got across "You want to know how hard it is to keep an animal that's afraid you're going to eat it? Very hard. Your wanton use of such a weapon nigh on sent it sprinting off. You know how much time it would have taken me to get the beast back? A lot."
He nodded slightly or at least what seemed to be one.
Typical male response as far as she was concerned. Nod and it makes them think you've heard something. Whether it sunk in or not, she'd had her brief word but could resist adding something else as well. "You keep that thing under control or I will," she snarled, slamming one taloned hand onto the table and digging them into the softer wood. The loud noise drew a few gazes from those paying attention but all the more enjoyable for they were witnesses. Turning her back on him and at the same time, raking the table to whatever ding she would get from the host, she left to get something to drink.
The sable dragon stalked off towards the bar, her ire dissipating and the plate armor clinking, every so often emitting a little screech of protest. Glancing from side to side with her emerald eyes, she could see a couple people wince at the sound. Keeping her wings furled along her back, she sat by the bar and ordering a bowl of punch, nonalcoholic or spiked in any way. Refusing the offers of a few of the other barmates, she kept a close eye on the zombie bartender to ensure nothing was slipped 'accidentally' in to her drink.
The large bowl of punch was placed in front of her. Lapping it with her pink-grey tongue, she continued to scan the main floor, more to get a better gauge on those around her than anything else. Most everyone who took shelter under the tables had already done so, with the exception of one. Politely requesting a napkin, the dragon held herself up by thrusting one hand against the bartop and arching her neck to clean herself off.
Note to self - inquire if there is some oil, a rag, and a willing helper. I'm afraid I squeak just a bit much for some people, not my fault it didn't stay clean in flight, she thought to herself.
Taele'ryth trotted off to the table with one of the very few duck-and-coverees underneath. She still appeared to fear for her life, though no doubt she'd heard the exchange of words. After all, she hadn't exactly been quiet about it. Kneeling down and giving her best half-decent I'm-not-going-to-hurt-you expression she tapped the other on the shoulder with her muzzle then retracted her head a few inches. "It is alright little one, it's safe to out from underneath the table." Mentally she was chiding herself for looking the part of the fool, stooped over with her head under the table. Not the best position for one of her stature to be.
He nodded slightly or at least what seemed to be one.
Typical male response as far as she was concerned. Nod and it makes them think you've heard something. Whether it sunk in or not, she'd had her brief word but could resist adding something else as well. "You keep that thing under control or I will," she snarled, slamming one taloned hand onto the table and digging them into the softer wood. The loud noise drew a few gazes from those paying attention but all the more enjoyable for they were witnesses. Turning her back on him and at the same time, raking the table to whatever ding she would get from the host, she left to get something to drink.
The sable dragon stalked off towards the bar, her ire dissipating and the plate armor clinking, every so often emitting a little screech of protest. Glancing from side to side with her emerald eyes, she could see a couple people wince at the sound. Keeping her wings furled along her back, she sat by the bar and ordering a bowl of punch, nonalcoholic or spiked in any way. Refusing the offers of a few of the other barmates, she kept a close eye on the zombie bartender to ensure nothing was slipped 'accidentally' in to her drink.
The large bowl of punch was placed in front of her. Lapping it with her pink-grey tongue, she continued to scan the main floor, more to get a better gauge on those around her than anything else. Most everyone who took shelter under the tables had already done so, with the exception of one. Politely requesting a napkin, the dragon held herself up by thrusting one hand against the bartop and arching her neck to clean herself off.
Note to self - inquire if there is some oil, a rag, and a willing helper. I'm afraid I squeak just a bit much for some people, not my fault it didn't stay clean in flight, she thought to herself.
Taele'ryth trotted off to the table with one of the very few duck-and-coverees underneath. She still appeared to fear for her life, though no doubt she'd heard the exchange of words. After all, she hadn't exactly been quiet about it. Kneeling down and giving her best half-decent I'm-not-going-to-hurt-you expression she tapped the other on the shoulder with her muzzle then retracted her head a few inches. "It is alright little one, it's safe to out from underneath the table." Mentally she was chiding herself for looking the part of the fool, stooped over with her head under the table. Not the best position for one of her stature to be.