As Mirnea and Falameezar finished up their work, slaughtering the dreaded construct before the battle had even begun, Aya struck a pose and dusted herself off. "I totally had him, y'know," she muttered, reaching behind her to gently caress her fingertips along the dragonling, like one would touch a wild animal that they adored, but still knew was dangerous. "Appreciate the help though." A light, awkward cough from the elf.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>