[Dragon, rendered grossly. He ignores the warm bloom of appreciation he gets back from Kavinsky but goes on staring, trying to pick this all apart. Dragon.]
You haven't got dragons.
[But Sirius has, and that was like no dragon he's ever seen before. Familiarity with the species does a kind of mental edit, repairs flesh to bones, strips back on coils of muscle. More noble than rotting. More deadly than disgusting. It drifts him a little into Kavinsky's head--thoughts, consciousness, whatever, like stepping foot over a threshold. He snaps himself back when he realises, and his eyes return to grimmer focus.]
no subject
[Dragon, rendered grossly. He ignores the warm bloom of appreciation he gets back from Kavinsky but goes on staring, trying to pick this all apart. Dragon.]
You haven't got dragons.
[But Sirius has, and that was like no dragon he's ever seen before. Familiarity with the species does a kind of mental edit, repairs flesh to bones, strips back on coils of muscle. More noble than rotting. More deadly than disgusting. It drifts him a little into Kavinsky's head--thoughts, consciousness, whatever, like stepping foot over a threshold. He snaps himself back when he realises, and his eyes return to grimmer focus.]
You want me to see all of this?