“Well, I did fly here from Griffonstone, Dash.” There was a low growl in her reply, though the aggression in her reply didn’t feel right. A jab making fun of how full, or how unfull, your plate was; that was practically a Blue Moon Festival tradition. And for Gilda, it was all too easy to fire back with her normal level of aggression, but that wasn’t right. That didn’t feel right today, even though it was the most natural reply for her to give.