CASIMIRA
dragon-shifting daughter of ashhal and ryatah
It was not her intention to make him feel like he was wrong. She did not think there was really a right or a wrong answer, but rather it was just a difference of opinion. It was clear to her that they had been raised entirely different. He was bold and unafraid, and so obviously comfortable with the draconic part of him. She wonders, though she does not ask, how many other dragons there were in his family; there is an air about him that suggests he is not the only one. It would make sense then, that he would find her to be such an anomaly. Just as he didn’t understand how she was so out of touch with her dragon side, she did not understand how such a thing could define him.
His answer, though, is not what she expected. She had thought it would be harder to get him to empathize with her; she thought that someone so proud and at ease with every part of him would be more likely to roll his eyes at her question. But she can see on his face that he is considering what she asked, and again his demeanor changes. He seems conflicted, at first, like he is not going to answer, or perhaps like he is considering brushing her off.
When he finally does answer, remorse settles in her chest, then, and her pale blue eyes soften. “It’s not horrible,” she begins, and cautiously she finds herself taking a step forward, her delicate head still angled downwards though her gaze lifts to peer at him from behind the long tendrils of her forelock. “But if your parents had never met then you would never have been born and that would be horrible.” There is a tentative smile on her lips now, and she is close enough to that she finds he smells of smoke and fire, in a way that is both familiar but also threatens to set her on edge again, yet she doesn't back away. “You can’t possibly think that everyone in your life only cares about your dragon side?” She queries gently, afraid that maybe she was pushing too far.
@[Santana]