She was not quite what you would call refined
Let me burn you and I could heal you. Poppy scoffs playfully. @[asphyxea] has had a hundred chances to burn her if she was going to do it, and the little bay withdraws her muzzle slowly from its place near those bright antlers as though unconcerned at the vulnerability of it. She knows enough about dragons to be spurred on by the danger, and little enough of fear to worry about her safety, but she knows jealousy and envy, has felt them claw her own heart, so she recognizes them when they flicker green across gold features.
"I would appreciate it if you did, after - I couldn't heal myself." An olive branch, and admission, extended while the palomino's flames turn the air bright around them. There is nothing protecting her from the fire but sheer gall. The old burn scars flare and sting as if to remind her she is not fire-proof - it's only her imagination that they seem to be on fire, that she can feel the burning crawl of lava dripping down her skin. No, she is not completely unfamiliar with the intensity of the heat hiding away in Asphyxea's throat. Poppy lifts the scarred leg to stretch it out behind her and laughs brightly. "Well. I guess I could. But not very quickly."
"Popinjay, Asphyxea. You can call me Poppy." She shakes the black curls out of her eyes, steps away from the golden dragon so that it is easier to see her completely, "You must have been at the raid on Nerine. It didn't work, you know, the Northerners still sleeping, maybe I should take you back with me so we can try again."
"I would appreciate it if you did, after - I couldn't heal myself." An olive branch, and admission, extended while the palomino's flames turn the air bright around them. There is nothing protecting her from the fire but sheer gall. The old burn scars flare and sting as if to remind her she is not fire-proof - it's only her imagination that they seem to be on fire, that she can feel the burning crawl of lava dripping down her skin. No, she is not completely unfamiliar with the intensity of the heat hiding away in Asphyxea's throat. Poppy lifts the scarred leg to stretch it out behind her and laughs brightly. "Well. I guess I could. But not very quickly."
"Popinjay, Asphyxea. You can call me Poppy." She shakes the black curls out of her eyes, steps away from the golden dragon so that it is easier to see her completely, "You must have been at the raid on Nerine. It didn't work, you know, the Northerners still sleeping, maybe I should take you back with me so we can try again."
