<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #800040">Termagant</span></span></div><br/>Observing the nobleman’s initial response withdrew a hearty, rumbling chuckle deep from the dragon’s throat. Hah, human behaviour still managed to surprise her, it seemed! Squinting down at the man, she nodded a tiny, apologetic bow at him before retorting; “You don’t sound very<span style="font-style: italic">noble</span>, sir, haha. But hey, I like that about ye! Keep that sort’ve tenacity with you and Mekova’s got nothing to fear, eh?” Termagant, although not gifted with sorcery in her bones, wasn’t entirely hopeless at combat either; Micheal’s gesture at his weapon before retreating did naught to faze her. Besides, the creature reckoned humans were so weird looking, with their fleshy spiders for hands, lanky noodles for limbs, strange malleable skin and whatnot... She couldn’t say it compared with arguing nose-to-nose with a fellow dragon, that’s for sure. Seeing that the situation was quickly being resolved, Termagant simply stood back, sat down and watched as the three discussed the matter and eventually brought a flushed face to the argumentative woman.<br/><br/>The dragon met the seamstress’ words with kind eyes, “Glad you lot sorted it out,” and as the lady mentioned the holy, sacred<span style="font-style: italic">p-word</span>, the dragon’s eyes danced with excitement. “R-... Really?! Horaah! Hope is not lost! Many thanks, you kind soul!”<br/><br/>And with that, Termagant slid down into the bustling market, leaving the noble and seamstress to themselves before her hungry mind had the patience to excuse herself.<br/><br/>It were as though she could almost feel the glowing hub of the market. Music, the smells of food, the sparkling reflections of fabric hitting sunlight, the soft rabble of children running along the concrete... If she bore a human body, oh, the things she would do here! Turning her head, she deliberately walked a little too slowly to observe a common hairdresser fix a woman’s long head of hair with an elegant braid filled with various flora. How pretty, she mused. Being a scaly monster was grand, but who wouldn’t want a majestic mane? Perhaps she’d consult Lili for a human’s opinion of whether or not a pretty wig would suit Termagant’s... Aesthetic. Hm, maybe not, on second thought.<br/><br/>Focusing back to the important, life-threatening matter at hand, Termagant’s gaze finally fell upon the prophesied food stand. To make as best of an impression as possible, she straightened her back and neck, tightly held her wings to her shoulder blades, and used her hind feet to prop herself upward as two claw-donned ‘hands’ fell open to the trader. The golden, sweet delicacy that, in response, dropped onto her palms felt to Termagant as heavy and valuable as liquid gold. Victorious, she puffed her chest, surged outside of the market, and promptly reported her findings back to the castle. Now<span style="font-style: italic">this</span>was a message worth hearing, she sheepishly smirked.<br/><br/>“I brought pre-breakfast, Lills!” Termagant spluttered in an excited, clumsy fashion, stumbling through the high castle window and into the room in which her fellow messenger had been patiently waiting. “Sorry it took so long; you know I need my sweet fix.” Opening the large mug of pudding, she did her best to use her claws to slowly and surely carefully balance the container onto a table in the room.  “Would you like some? They gave me two spoons.” She offered while focusing on the metal cutlery, trying to figure out how in the King’s name she was supposed to fixate them to her long, ungraceful claws. “Oh, and in other news... So you figured out what you wanted to wear?”