Suspicion flares to life in Aldous’ eyes as they narrow on the boy before him (a man, perhaps) and he takes an instinctive step backward. Ridged scales ripple down his spine and arch as if in response, as if he could fight off someone more experienced, more skilled than he. (Would the strength of the dragon protect him, he wonders. Would it be better to turn into that serpent and try to slither away instead?)
But there is enough curiosity to keep him still, to keep eyes narrowed but on Malik.
“Why would you quest for my scales?” he asks, his voice a little quieter. There is something like disquiet in his belly at the idea of parting with a piece of him and his lips peel back against sharpened teeth, as though he might have to fight off the other—but there is enough of his mother in him that he stops. Instead youthful cunning gleams in his eyes and he pauses thoughtfully, tilting his head to the side.
He exhales before he takes a step forward. “Actually,” he feels the poison simmer in his veins, making its way through him and beginning to bubble beneath his frozen scales. “You’re welcome to try,” he says with a soft smile, tilting his head up and exposing the ones that run down his throat.
@Malik