Anvonh drowsily blinked her eyes, feeling oddly warm. Her eyes widened as she realized a wing was draped over her back, and it took a few seconds for her to remember the night before. She must have fallen asleep at some point, though she wasn't sure why Hironh felt the need to cover her like a dragonet. She was an adult after all, and she certainly didn't need to be coddled…even if it was quite comfortable.

Still, she had something important to do, so she slowly pushed herself to her feet, being careful not to wake her father. It took a few beats for Anvonh to finally free herself, and once she did she silently crept her way out of her home, leaving on foot for some distance before taking flight. The sun hadn't quite risen yet, but there was more than enough light to see where she was going.

It didn't take long to reach her destination, and she only had to poke her head into the cave for Ghorrah to wake up. Anvonh waited for the elder to extract herself from a soundly-sleeping Jooral, and then they left together to speak in a place where they could speak in confidence.

«So, what happened?» the elder dragon asked, turning to face Anvonh.

«My father challenged me to a spar, just like you thought he might.»

Ghorrah tilted her head ever-so-slightly, clearly waiting for her to continue.

«I…won the ground fight, though it wasn't easy, but he was just too agile in the skies. I lost three-to-five,» she admitted, and resisted the urge to shrink under the intensity of Ghorrah's gaze. It was often difficult to tell what Ghorrah was thinking, though Anvonh did not think she seemed disappointed or angry.

«Beating him on the ground is a given, but…I am surprised that you lost in the air. Were you careless?»

«No,» Anvonh said, tossing her head. «I was forced to be more reckless than I would have liked to hit him at all, but I don't think I was careless.»

«Hmm,» Ghorrah rumbled. «So he flew well then? Without any visible weakness?»

«Not that I could see. He was more agile than most, and he said that flying with an injury taught him to make the use out of his limited capabilities.»

«...I see,» Ghorrah replied. «Did anything else happen?»

«Not really. After our sparring match I invited them both to stay at my place, and we ended up speaking late into the night.» Anvonh paused. «So, what now?»

Ghorrah did not immediately answer her question, and when she did she had a strange, faraway look in her eyes. «...I'll need to think about it.»

Anvonh blinked in surprise. «But-»

«You'll be going hunting now, yes?» Ghorrah asked.

«Er…yes? But what does that have to do with-»

«I'll talk to you later,» Ghorrah said, the finality in her words putting an end to their conversation. The elder turned to leave without another word, leaving a conflicted Anvonh alone in the woods.

Pryce was surprised when he awoke to find Anvonh missing. He supposed she must have gone hunting, and snuck past the still-sleeping Fathom to get some fresh air.

He almost swore when he came face-to-face with a dragon sitting by the side of the cave entrance – Ghorrah, he realized a full second later.

"You scared me," he sighed, though he knew he wouldn't be understood.

Ghorrah didn't respond, and instead she snaked her head past the cave entrance to glance at Fathom, who continued to snore. The old dragon pointed a talon at Pryce, then made a beckoning gesture before turning away.

Pryce followed after a moment's hesitation – he'd already be dead if she wished him harm, and he was curious to see what the adversarial dragon wanted with him.

They walked for a minute, and Ghorrah stopped a good distance away from the cave, far enough that no one would hear their conversation.

Ghorrah sat down to face Pryce, then raised a foreclaw to point at his chest.

"You. Fix Hironh wing…yes?"

"...Yes," Pryce cautiously admitted. He'd told Fathom not to broach that subject unless asked, as that could easily be seen as extortion.

Ghorrah lowered her head to match his eye level. "Jooral wing. You can fix?"

Pryce scratched his head, unsure of how to convey 'that might be possible after years of research and study'. Jooral's impairment was far more serious than Fathom's own injury, and fixing that would be no simple process.

"Yes or no?" Ghorrah asked, her words heavy with accent and a distinct note of impatience.

Pryce pursed his lips, unsure of how to answer. Such a thing would be well within the realm of possibility, but it wasn't exactly easy either. He was about to suggest that they go wake Fathom for a proper conversation when Ghorrah drew herself up. Pryce eyed her warily, and for a moment she remained completely motionless, then she abruptly lowered her head.

Thud.

Pryce flinched at the sudden motion, but it was no attack – quite the opposite, he was shocked to see Ghorrah with her arms and neck bent inwards, with the top of her head planted firmly upon the ground.

"Chel."

'Please.'

Pryce stood staring in disbelief at the proud dragon, bowed in supplication. She couldn't see him at all in this vulnerable position, and the only way for her to be more unguarded was if she literally rolled over.

A gentle breeze blew through the mountainside forest, and the mournful whistling noise they produced filled the silence between them like water from a burst dam.

Neither of them moved for a period of time, until Pryce let out a loud sigh.

Ghorrah twitched, and slowly raised her head, eyes wary.

"I do not know if I can heal Jooral, but I will try," Pryce said, slowly and clearly as he crouched to kneel at the level of Ghorrah's head. "Ra toh par, kuh ra san lao."

'I don't know, but I try heal'

Ghorrah's eyes widened at the reply, and Pryce hoped he hadn't mispronounced anything too badly. Fortunately she seemed to have understood his intent, and she straightened herself to eye him with a somewhat softer expression before she nodded and left.

Pryce watched as she flew back in the direction of her home, and he wondered just what kind of relationship Ghorrah and Jooral had.

"Fathom, the word for 'partner' was 'eekap', right?"

"Yes, why?" Fathom asked as he did his morning stretches.

"I was just wondering…is that what Jooral and Ghorrah are?" Pryce asked while they prepared their breakfast – Anvonh had brought back a blue lizard this time.

"Of course," Fathom replied, tilting his head. "Was it not obvious?"

"I just wanted to check," Pryce said. "It is…unusual for human partners to be the same gender."

"It is?" Fathom asked, blinking in surprise. "Why? What does gender have to do with being partners? That's like saying it is unusual for friends to be the same gender."

There most certainly were some people who held such beliefs, but Pryce decided to broach that subject at a later date. "Humans think of mates and partners as the same thing, remember?" Pryce asked.

"Oh, right…well this is confusing," Fathom complained. "I don't see how friends would be closer than mates. A friend is someone you trust. Mates are just dragons who you have an egg with, so Ghorrah-ǂ and Jooral-ǂ are obviously not mates. The Draconic word for them is 'lankap', which means 'other-half'."

"I remember that," Pryce nodded. "It's just different from how humans do things. Children usually grow up to take care of their parents, and when their parents die they give everything to their children. That's why families are so important."

Fathom tilted his head as he mulled over this information. "I suppose that makes sense if your lifespans are so short…normally a dragon's belongings will be given to their closest friend, though fighting is sometimes involved."

Anvonh glanced over her cooking pit to listen in on their conversation. "What you talk about?" she asked, in her stilted Murian.

Fathom took a moment to catch her up on their conversation.

«Wait, if the parents give their belongings to their children, then how is it shared amongst multiple children?» Anvonh asked, peering at Pryce.

"That's…complicated. It depends on the parents, but most like to give everything to their oldest child."

"So the other children…don't get anything? That does not seem very fair," Fathom huffed.

"It's not, but human culture changes over time, and it is less common now than it was in the past."

«Interesting,» Anvonh noted. «I would like to learn more about them, if I ever go to the Mainland.»

Fathom paused before translating. "Pryce, do you think we will be able to go to the Mainland?"

"I was planning on bringing you with me. Assuming things go well," Pryce amended. "I don't know how the other humans will react to you, but if they agree then you could come with us. And Anvonh too, of course."

«Oh, that would be amazing!» Anvonh exclaimed. «But then I would have to leave everything behind…unless Ghorrah and Jooral come with us? Hrrm…»

"We should ask them about this," Fathom replied, and tossed a glance at the cooking meat. "After lunch, of course."

They had just finished cleaning up after themselves when both dragons suddenly snapped their heads towards the sky, as if pulled by a string. Pryce followed their gaze, shielding his eyes from the sunlight to see a dragon on the horizon – Ghorrah, according to Fathom.

They exchanged greetings when she landed a minute later, glancing between Fathom and Pryce for reasons obvious only to the latter.

«I've come to make a deal,» Ghorrah announced, turning her attention to Fathom. «Your wing is supposed to be broken, but I see no obvious damage.» It seemed that she wished to keep her prior interaction with Pryce a secret.

«Yes,» Fathom said cautiously. He unfurled his left wing and traced where the injury had been. «I broke my wing again when I fought Ighen a moon and a half ago. Pryce was able to fix it for me while I healed.»

«And what exactly did 'fixing it' entail?» Ghorrah asked warily.

«Pryce used human medicine to make me fall into a deep sleep, and then he cut off the bent sections of the bone before using some tools to keep them straight,» Fathom said, glossing over the grisly details. «As you can see, it has worked well.»

«Her injury is far worse than yours. Do you believe that the humans are truly able to fix it?» Ghorrah asked severely.

"I can't promise that," Pryce said, stepping forward to speak. "I would be glad to help you, of course, but humans have been studying our bodies for thousands of years. I'm the only human who knows that dragons exist at all, and I barely know anything about your bodies. It's too dangerous to try and fix Jooral's wing right now, but that's not to say it's impossible – I don't know if it would take one year or ten, but I'm sure that it would eventually be doable. Of course, we would only be able to do it if humans and dragons are on good terms."

Ghorrah sat stonefaced as Fathom translated Pryce's response.

«That is…reasonable,» She said, nodding her head slowly. «So, just to be clear, I help you make peace between our people, and in return you'll fix Jooral's wing?»

"Yes," Pryce said once Fathom had translated this.

Ghorrah narrowed her eyes in suspicion. «I see. Tying your interests to mine…clever, but what do you have to gain from this?»

Pryce wanted to deny that first assumption, but he doubted he could convince her otherwise. "It's what I want to do," he simply replied. "I don't know if you believe me, but I like learning about dragons, and I can't do that if there's no peace between us."

Ghorrah stared intently at him for a few moments, as if trying to discern his true motivations. «...Very well. Come with me, we'll need to talk to Jooral before I can settle on anything,» she said, fanning her wings as she prepared to fly.

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«Wait,» Fathom said before she could depart. «Why bother coming here to us? Why didn't you just wait back home with Jooral-ǂ?»

Ghorrah stopped, and visibly hesitated before replying. «For centuries Jooral has known and believed that she would never fly again, and her acceptance was a good thing…until now.» She paused, and her spines twitched almost imperceptibly. «Baseless hopes bring nothing but pain, but now things have changed, and the impossible is no longer so. She may believe herself content with the way things are, but her eyes tell a different story. I see it every time I go flying; though it fades with time, it never disappears. I know she misses the skies, even if she has convinced herself otherwise, and that is why I wish to persuade her. I merely wanted to clarify some things before we discussed it all together.»

Fathom took some time to translate all of this. Though Pryce had only known Ghorrah for a short time he still felt it unusual for her to speak so much, and his suspicion was supported by the look of faint surprise in Anvonh's eyes.

«Any more questions?» Ghorrah asked. «Good. Follow me.»

The short flight back to Jooral's place gave Pryce some time to realize how nervous he was. He was no ambassador; did he really have the right to make a promise on behalf of humanity? He still had no idea how the rest of humanity would react to all that he had to share, and he felt unpleasant at the prospect of making oaths under such uncertain circumstances.

Well, there was nothing to be done about it; he'd just have to do his best to see those promises fulfilled.

Jooral sat waiting for them as they landed, though her head remained lowered in an uncharacteristic silence. «Ghorrah, my wings,» she tiredly sighed, «you know I didn't want you to do this.»

«I know,» Ghorrah whispered apologetically, «but the circumstances have changed. Surely you see that?»

«I do,» Jooral sighed, leaning against her partner's side. «So, what did you learn?»

«I confirmed that Pryce was indeed the one who fixed Hironh's wing,» Ghorrah reported. «I also learned that Hironh was able to best Anvonh in a sky fight five-to-three.»

«He did?» Jooral asked, looking rather surprised. She tossed a glance at Anvonh, who nodded her verification. «Interesting…and he thinks he can do the same for me?»

«No, not yet,» Fathom said, tossing his head. «Pryce cannot fix what he does not know, and your injury is more serious. Without adequate preparation, he fears he would just make it worse. He also hasn't examined your injury yet.»

«Sensible,» Jooral hummed as she extended her broken wing for Pryce's inspection. «Well, go on ahead.»

The elder dragon only peered curiously as he cautiously examined the old wound. Any scarring around it had long since disappeared, and the malunion itself wasn't terribly severe. Still, it was more than enough of a hindrance to make flight impossible.

«How does he intend on learning more about our bodies?» Jooral asked, turning to face Fathom. «That would require studying corpses, would it not?»

"I would study those who died from natural or unrelated causes," Pryce replied to Fathom's translation. "Your wing doesn't look too bad. I don't know how long it would take for me to be confident in fixing it, but I don't see it being more than ten years."

«So you're just going to hope that you come across a corpse?» Ghorrah asked, flicking her membranes scornfully. «It would be much faster if I acquired a few for you to study.»

"I will not help you if you kill others for your own benefit," Pryce firmly replied.

«Why?» Ghorrah chuffed as she narrowed her eyes. «It won't be hard to find a fool willing to duel me, and it's not as if such an idiot would be a great loss.»

"Even so, those are my terms."

«Eh, it's just as well anyway,» Jooral interrupted before Ghorrah could voice her disagreement. «Slow and steady is always a good idea, and I'm in no hurry. I'm more curious about what this healing process entails.»

«It's nothing surprising,» Fathom shrugged. «The bones are cut so that they fit properly, and then metal tools are embedded into the bones to keep them in place. I actually still have those bits of metal in my wing.»

«What?» Ghorrah hissed. «You didn't tell me that before. And why doesn't he just take it out?»

«He could, but it obviously needs to stay in place until the bones finish mending, and by that point the flesh has long since healed,» Fathom explained. «He could take it out now, but then I wouldn't be able to fly for two or three weeks.»

«I…suppose that makes sense…» Jooral dubiously commented. «And how long did it take for him to finish cutting and fixing your bones in place?»

«I'm…not sure,» Fathom said with a slight frown. «Pryce used some medicine to put me into a deep sleep until the whole thing was over, so you don't have to worry about the pain.»

«Oh, they can do that?» Jooral asked, a glint of surprise and curiosity piercing through her hesitation. «I suppose that should not be surprising; it sounds like alcohol, but stronger.»

«It did make me feel very strange, though my memory is quite fuzzy,» Fathom agreed. «I think that's more or less everything important. What do you think? Want to give it a try?»

«I…don't know,» Jooral sighed. «He's given so many stipulations that I can't help but feel that he's being honest, and fixing some broken bones admittedly sounds quite mundane compared to what he's already shown us.»

Ghorrah's eyes slowly widened in surprise. «Then…does that mean…?»

Jooral flattened her spines as she looked up at the skies. «To be honest, the hope of ever flying again has long since left my mind,» she admitted, her deep voice quavering. «It's been so long that I'm not even sure if I even remember how it feels to fly through the skies…can I really miss something that I don't even remember?»

«Oh, Joor,» Ghorrah quietly rumbled, wrapping her partner in a tight embrace. «I don't know the answer to your question, but I swear I will keep the promise that I made so long ago, and when that day comes we can discover that answer together.»

Jooral pulled her head back to look Ghorrah in the eyes, her jaws parted in a sad smile. «I told you before not to bother with that ridiculous promise, but you never listen,» she sighed, though her words were devoid of any anger.

«Of course not,» Ghorrah snorted gently. «Why would I, when I make them for you?»

«So,» Fathom coughed. «Do we have an agreement?»

«Yes, we do,» Ghorrah said, padding over to Pryce.

"I thought I would be making the promise to Jooral?" Pryce asked, eyebrow raised.

"Ghorrah is the one who will help you search for the human ship, so you are making the promise to her that you will try and heal Jooral," Fathom explained.

"I guess that makes sense," Pryce said, taking a deep breath before reciting the promise he had prepared in his mind. "Ghorrah, help us gather allies and locate the rescue crew, and in return I will do my best to fix Jooral's broken wing."

Ghorrah rumbled as she spent some time thinking over the translation. «Are you certain you have repeated his words correctly?» She asked Fathom.

Fathom huffed in irritation. «Of course I have.»

«Then that is acceptable,» Ghorrah said, then tilted her head in confusion.

«...What is it?» Fathom asked.

«I just realized that he is…a bit small. How am I supposed to clasp his hand?» Ghorrah asked, glancing pointedly at Pryce's tiny human hands.

"Is something wrong?" Pryce asked Fathom.

"We just realized it will be difficult for her to make a promise with you," Fathom said, flicking his spines in mild consternation. "Normally the one who makes the offer holds their left arm forwards with the palm facing up. The other dragon grabs their hand with the same arm, palm facing down."

Pryce saw the difficulty in executing this act, but deciding to try anyway he lifted his left arm palm up, as if he were offering something. Ghorrah seemed doubtful, but she carefully reciprocated the gesture so as to not rake his skin.

The two of them awkwardly held the gesture for a few moments before Ghorrah drew back her hand.

"...I assume it works better when two dragons do it," Pryce said. It felt a bit anticlimactic all things considered.

"Yes. Your hand is too small," Fathom said, and asked Anvonh to demonstrate with him. The two of them clasped opposite hands, with their three middle fingers facing each other's palms while the thumbs and little fingers interlocked with each other. "It is supposed to represent a…connection, or giving something away, I think."

Pryce held his chin as he studied the gesture. "Interesting. Humans have a similar gesture."

"You do?" Fathom asked, surprised.

"You do it when you meet someone for the first time, but you also do it when you agree to trade something," Pryce explained, then had to spend a minute awkwardly directing Fathom and Anvonh to do a handshake, which they weren't able to do very well due to the structure of their hands.

"That's kind of what it looks like," Pryce said, shrugging in defeat.

"I assume it works better when two humans do it," Fathom echoed.

"Why…humans do this?" Anvonh asked in Murian. "This is not…like…" she clicked her tongue in frustration before swapping to her native tongue. «This is not like the action of giving something, is it?»

"I…don't know, actually," Pryce frowned. "It's a very old gesture, but I'm not sure why people started doing it. We do use hands for everything, and if someone falls down we help them up by grabbing their hand, so maybe it symbolizes helping each other," he mused.

"Do humans fall down often?" Fathom asked dubiously.

"Sometimes; it's easy to fall over when you only have two legs."

«...Are you sure we can trust him?» Ghorrah sighed when this had been translated for her, making Fathom bristle in secondhand offense.

«Well, you did not offer anything of great value, so we do not have much to lose,» Jooral shrugged. «I am surprised he agreed to do so much for so little.»

«To be honest he probably would have done it even if you didn't agree to help him,» Fathom snorted.

«Ridiculous,» Ghorrah chuffed. «No one would do so much for nothing in return.»

«Well he didn't ask for anything when he helped me,» Fathom snorted.

Ghorrah drew her head back in confusion. «Why would he do that?»

Fathom shrugged. «That is just who he is.»

«Well, the important part is that he's going to help us,» Anvonh optimistically crooned as she turned to Jooral. «And even if you don't remember what it's like to fly, then it'll just be like doing it for the first time again, right?»

«Yes, I suppose that's a good way of thinking about it,» Jooral chuckled, tilting her head in a draconic smile. «It's such a strange feeling…I think I am starting to believe this is possible. This is not customary, but I am grateful to you, Pryce,» Jooral said, bowing her head. «Even in my dreams I no longer fly, and so I am glad to have this hope, even if you do not succeed.»

"You're welcome, and I will do my best," Pryce said, bowing a little. "That reminds me, I think now is a good time for me to ask a favor from the three of you."

«A favor from all of us?» Jooral asked while Ghorrah narrowed her eyes in suspicion. «Why didn't you mention it before we made our deal?»

"It is nothing serious," Pryce reassured. "I am not good at pronouncing Draconic words, and that includes your names. Could you let me give you a name that I can easily pronounce?"

The dragons shared a glance as they shifted uncomfortably.

«Names are…important,» Jooral civilly replied.

To the side, Anvonh cocked her head as a thought occurred to her. «Hmm…come to think of it, I have never heard Pryce say any of our names before – not even yours, Father. Did you already let him give you a new name?»

«Well – his pronunciation is horrible, and he offered to call me 'Fathom' early on, so I figured it would be easier to just go with it,» Fathom defensively explained before their expressions of surprise. «And before you ask, it means 'understanding' in Murian.»

Anvonh flattened her spines at this. «His pronunciation can't be that bad, can it?!»

Fathom chuffed as he tossed his head. «Well he's already said your names multiple times in the last few days, so you tell me.»

«He did?» Anvonh blinked. "Pryce. You say my name now? Say 'Anvonh'?"

"Okay, uh…Anvonh?"

The dragon in question blinked. "...Can you give me human name?" she politely asked.

"I still don't think it's that bad," Pryce grumbled.

«His pronunciation has actually gotten a lot better,» Fathom not-whispered to Anvonh, which Pryce ignored. He couldn't think of anything in particular to describe her personality, but since she was the daughter of Fathom…

"How about 'Celeste'? It means 'sky'."

"Ceh-lest," Anvonh said, testing out the name. "I like this."

«What about our names? Could you try saying them for us?» Jooral asked entreatingly.

Pryce sighed. "Jooral. Ghorrah," he said, pointing at each dragon as he said their names.

The two older dragons shared a glance, their spines flattened.

«What name would you give us?» Jooral asked.

Pryce muttered under his breath as Fathom stifled a suspiciously amused noise. "I was going to name you two 'Fortitude' and 'Devotion'," he said, pointing at Jooral and Ghorrah in turn. "Having fortitude means that you don't give up. Devotion is what someone has when they don't give up on someone or something."

Jooral blinked in surprise. «You're giving us names that already have meanings?»

"Yes, human names are all like that. Are dragon names different?"

"Names aren't supposed to have meaning," Fathom explained, giving him an odd look. "How else would you be able to give meaning to your name?"

"'Give meaning to your name'?" Pryce echoed in confusion. "What does that mean?"

"Sometimes the names of very famous dragons become words. Does that not happen with humans?"

Pryce adjusted his glasses as he tried to recall such an example. "That sort of thing is very rare. I'm not sure if I can think of any examples."

"Strange," Fathom grumbled before he tilted his head, a thought occurring. "Wait, then what does your name mean?"

"I…don't know, actually. Most names are so old that very few people know the meaning anymore."

"That seems…careless," Fathom commented before translating their conversation to the others.

«Such strange creatures. At least 'For-ti-tude' describes Jooral well,» Ghorrah admitted, sounding out the unfamiliar word.

«Yes, and Dev-o-tion is an appropriate name for you,» Jooral agreed.

«So, do you accept these names?» Fathom asked.

«It is an easy choice,» Ghorrah – now Devotion – shrugged and glanced at Fortitude, who nodded. «He may use these words instead of our names.»

"Excellent," Pryce said, nodding in relief. "Now that's out of the way, I assume we're going to continue the language lessons?"

"I guess," Fathom sighed. "I just hope I don't have to do this every time we meet someone new."

Later in the day, Fathom and Celeste landed by a river to immediately thrust their muzzles into the cold mountain water. Pryce followed suit, disembarking to refill his canteens.

"So, are you two going to go hunting now?" Pryce asked, which Fathom acknowledged by the twitch of his spines.

"Yes, but I have an idea. This time you stay here," Fathom said, and turned to Celeste. «Now that we've had something to drink, how about we have a hunting competition?»

«Oh?» Celeste said, a competitive glint in her eyes. «Sounds fun. First one back wins?»

«Of course,» Fathom nodded. "Pryce, can you record the time with the chronometer?"

"Ready," Pryce reported upon retrieving the ship's chronometer.

«Ready?» Fathom asked.

«Ready? I'm waiting for you!» Celeste grinned.

Fathom flicked his flight membranes, returning the sass. «Three, two, one…go!»

[JOURNAL ENTRY EXCERPTS]

Day 82,

Made good progress today securing the cooperation of Jooral and Ghorrah (who shall now henceforth be referred to as 'Fortitude' and 'Devotion')

I have promised to help fix Fortitude's broken wing as soon as safely possible, and in return Fortitude and Devotion will assist me in introducing dragons to mankind.

I've also confirmed that Fortitude and Devotion are partners (eekap), though I don't believe that's quite the right word to use either. Contrary to popular belief homosexual behavior is quite common in nature, but I don't think that would be the correct term to use either. My sample size may be small, but from what I've seen sex and gender seem to matter little to draconic relationships. I suspect that they have very little reproductive drive (at least in comparison to humans), which is supported by their view of the right to reproduce as a privilege to be earned.

According to Fathom the two of them have been together since they were young, which means they've been partners for over three hundred years…perhaps it's only expected then, that humans do not have a word to describe such a relationship.

On a related note, their longevity is a fascinating topic. Such an extreme trait never evolves without a reason, but I just don't see a case where it would ever be selected for over other more advantageous traits. Perhaps they evolved remarkable regenerative capabilities at some point, and they just so happened to have the right combination of traits to keep senescence at bay for centuries? Sounds unlikely…maybe I'm forgetting something: culture. It's entirely possible that intelligent dragons have been around for millions of years, and the selection process of any prehistoric cultures would be more than enough to bend the usual rules of natural selection. Perhaps at some point age was an extremely attractive trait, or maybe the oldest dragons had the highest social positions within their groups.

In other news, the dragons continue to learn with ridiculous speed. Celeste learns the fastest, with Fortitude right behind her. Devotion lacks their level of interest, but she knows that learning Murian will be important, and she remains a dedicated learner.

Fathom and Anvonh (Celeste) have also begun a hunting competition, which they insist that I record.

Fathom: 9 minutes and 10 seconds Celeste: 10 minutes 21 seconds

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