Lahabrea meets Soren at one of those awkward junctures where one person is trying to file out of a building while the other is trying to enter. The small, youthful-looking Dragon with black scales and red accents is trying to head out of the barracks as the newcomer to this world goes in. Brushing past is not so seamless a maneuver when one of them has extra limbs to mind, such as batlike wings protruding from his shoulder blades and a long, dark tail snaking behind him. Poking someone with the horns jutting back from his skull is another issue.
Not that he'd dive past him even if he were still soft, squishy and human unless he were being chased down or in a mad rush for some vital objective. Avoiding a collision and waiting until one party steps aside first is one reason to stall. Another is to stare at the eccentric hooded figure, catlike pupils constricting. He clutches his leathery, well-used book close to his chest, claws furling over the spine and pages.
The urge to go back to his old dwelling and defend what lies beneath rears up within him for some reason inexplicable to him. In Soren's mind, it amounts to mere suspicion. Anyone has a right to be wary of a stranger who obscures his features. His tails slides across the cold floor, wiggles a bit.
Havens (wildcard)
Not that he'd dive past him even if he were still soft, squishy and human unless he were being chased down or in a mad rush for some vital objective. Avoiding a collision and waiting until one party steps aside first is one reason to stall. Another is to stare at the eccentric hooded figure, catlike pupils constricting. He clutches his leathery, well-used book close to his chest, claws furling over the spine and pages.
The urge to go back to his old dwelling and defend what lies beneath rears up within him for some reason inexplicable to him. In Soren's mind, it amounts to mere suspicion. Anyone has a right to be wary of a stranger who obscures his features. His tails slides across the cold floor, wiggles a bit.
"...Excuse me."