“Exceptionally,” the soldier replied for Aurien. “But he is not hostile, my lady.”
“Daerton is an addict,” Aurien settled upon his haunches curling his tail around his forelegs neatly. I slid from his back, landing deep into the snow. Aurien blew out a breath, amused. I picked my way around to his chest, and sat upon his paws, drawing his tail over my lap. It was much warmer surrounded by dragon-scale.
He looked towards the entrance to the wall, and I followed his gaze.
The soldier returned with three fur clad men, their cloaks swirling the dark red of blood against the white. These men’s armour was finer than the soldiers around us, the colours more vivid and the leather detailing beautiful to behold.
“It is good to see you Aurien,” the foremost man stopped before us. His vo
