open!
who ; Logan and various visitors
what ; For the past few weeks, Logan's been working on building a cabin in one of the garden zones, just so he can have a place to get away from everyone every once in awhile. However, he's finding it a little less solitary than he'd planned on...
where ; Garden Zone 5
when ; now!
warning(s) ; ...Logan ( Read more... )
what ; For the past few weeks, Logan's been working on building a cabin in one of the garden zones, just so he can have a place to get away from everyone every once in awhile. However, he's finding it a little less solitary than he'd planned on...
where ; Garden Zone 5
when ; now!
warning(s) ; ...Logan ( Read more... )
And she'd clearly been spotted.
Pogt.
She hadn't noticed the smell of him over the smell of the moose. Humans didn't have a smell nearly so distinct as other dragons - a garlicky, musky, metallic scent all their own - and beyond than the surprise, he was far too quiet for one.
Other then the...knives? He did not seem to be attacking, but he was, for the moment, alone. Wistala shifted uneasily over her kill, wings still half-spread in readiness. Could there be others? She didn't want to abandon the thing, but technically, she had intruded on the human's territory. Hominid laws. They weren't worth more than bat droppings if there were no markers about.
"Ah. Hello there?"
If he wasn't going to run away shrieking, the least she could do was attempt to speak to him.
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There was a moment of doubt, but - no, there was no one else around, or he'd have smelled them, and the voice was definitely coming from that direction.
Logan stopped, his claws still out, and just stared at the dragon. If that was what it was.
Maybe he was imagining things.
He shook his head, trying to clear it, and sniffed, trying to get a better idea of what he was looking at.
"The hell?"
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"What? Don't tell me you're yet another person who has never seen a dragonelle before."
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He's still staring at her, trying to decide whether the animal's real or if he's just been working too hard. Real or not, it (she, apparently) is definitely talking to him, and sniffing right back.
Might as well go with it.
"Sorry," he says drily, quirking an eyebrow. "Must not be native where I'm from."
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"So I've heard from a distressing number of hominids here. Where are you from, exactly? Another 'Earth'?"
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Wherever dragons come from, apparently. He takes a step forward, examining the dragon curiously.
"'Distressing?'"
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She keeps a wary eye on him as he steps closer.
"Well, what else would you call it, hearing people supposedly from the land you come from saying your species are naught but legends, hmm? There are already too few of us as it is."
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Yeah, sorry, Logan hasn't exactly been the most attentive person when it comes to paying attention to what goes on over the network. He snorts in amusement and raises an eyebrow, teasing.
"Come on, you can't blame all of us for that."
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"If humans were not the ones hunting my kind, that would certainly be easier." She shakes her head, snorting, tongue vanishing with a slurp. Confound that metal smell! It's making her gums go slimy with drool. "...Are you a miner, perchance?"
Subject change!
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Now that he thinks about it, he remembers seeing one or two of them on the network. As far as he could recall, they were all loud and excitable and he'd muted them as soon as possible.
"...What?"
The abrupt change in subject catches him off guard, and he shakes his head, staring in confusion.
"No. No, I'm not."
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She curls her neck back a bit with a snort, the neck harness inexplicably heavy with the scant weight of the small amount of precious metals remaining inside. She is suddenly hungry for it, and it is harder to resist with the reminder hanging in the air.
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"You can smell it?"
Even he can't smell the adamantium, but he supposes he shouldn't be surprised. This is a talking dragon, after all. Who knows what it's capable of?
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[And no wonder, given how tiny they are! At least explaining the complexities of dragon scents to a human takes her mind off her metal-hunger, for however briefly it may last.]
"I thought it was just your blades at first, but the smell is all over you, like the smell of iron and ash sticks to a blacksmith even after a wash, or the smell of fur and horse droppings does to a stable master. If a fair bit more subtle."
[She pulls her lips back in a little human smile. That was her attempt at a joke.]
"It smells very rare, like something the dwarves would horde and prize above all else, if that is any comfort. It's not anything I've ever had myself, though."
[Oops. And now she's thinking about food again. Drat!]
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He doesn't smile at the 'joke,' though he watches her closely, paying attention to every word she's saying. It's a lot of flowery language, mostly, but the line about dwarves earns her another quiet snort of uncertain disbelief, and as she finishes he cocks his head, the strange wording catching his interest.
"Had? You mean smelled, right?"
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"Well, I've never smelled it before, though mithril smells somewhat similar. But I have certainly never tried it myself, either. I'd remember something that smelled as refined as this."
She gives him a look, completely missing the point; something in his posture reminds her to be cautious, but she presses on despite it.
"...I don't suppose you might trade for your ore, or wish to share the location of the vein?"
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Yeah, he's read his Tolkien, buddy. Logan gives the dragon an extremely flat look, matched only by his extremely flat tone.
Combined with the dwarves, he's just about done taking this conversation seriously. He snorts, and jerks his head to the west.
"Sure. Misty Mountains are that way."
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