All that glistens is not spun sugar [Gluttony]
Changeling spent a few hours of the night sleeping on the outskirts of the camp as a dragon - the benefits of being a shapeshifter, plus the paranoia of being... well, himself, in a strange and obviously hostile environment, all filtered through Batfamily training made that seem like a sensible idea - the scales would provide reasonable protection for him, and he would provide protection and shelter for anyone in the camp who wanted to sleep next to a huge green dragon. It's not like he's going to roll over in his sleep and crush anyone to death! ... Well, he doesn't, anyway.
Of course, even dragon scales have their weak points, and something that large is bound to attract interest from the things it doesn't scare away... but nothing untoward happens, apparently, beyond Changeling having a vague itch on the back of his neck for a moment when he wakes up and changes back down to human form. Still, it's been a while since he slept outside, and shapeshifting always brings its own stresses on his body, so he dismisses that with a flick of his long hair.
In the light of morning - and doesn't that make a change from the bloody sunset - he finds a new path, leading to an arched doorway. He runs his hand over the cool, carved marble of the arch, quite sure that it's a trap, but also quite sure that it's the only way forward. And if the point is to play the game and keep moving onward, then that's what he'll do, cautiously exploring what turn out to be seemingly safe corridoors and... rooms full to bursting with glistening, succulent-looking food, arranged in lush displays and, in some cases literally, dripping with delicious juices and scents.
"... Oh, like hell." Changeling is glad he ate at the party, although he's fairly certain he could survive whatever trick the food contains - but it's liable to be more trouble than it's worth.
It's still a very tempting display, so this is going to be a long day.
Of course, even dragon scales have their weak points, and something that large is bound to attract interest from the things it doesn't scare away... but nothing untoward happens, apparently, beyond Changeling having a vague itch on the back of his neck for a moment when he wakes up and changes back down to human form. Still, it's been a while since he slept outside, and shapeshifting always brings its own stresses on his body, so he dismisses that with a flick of his long hair.
In the light of morning - and doesn't that make a change from the bloody sunset - he finds a new path, leading to an arched doorway. He runs his hand over the cool, carved marble of the arch, quite sure that it's a trap, but also quite sure that it's the only way forward. And if the point is to play the game and keep moving onward, then that's what he'll do, cautiously exploring what turn out to be seemingly safe corridoors and... rooms full to bursting with glistening, succulent-looking food, arranged in lush displays and, in some cases literally, dripping with delicious juices and scents.
"... Oh, like hell." Changeling is glad he ate at the party, although he's fairly certain he could survive whatever trick the food contains - but it's liable to be more trouble than it's worth.
It's still a very tempting display, so this is going to be a long day.