After failing to stitch together most of the foreign words exchanged by Xīlōxōch and Marza as he was walking away from their midnight meeting, Nix’s ears pricked to attention as he swore that he heard Xīlōxōch mention that she was a descendant of Dragons. He had seen her feathered talons shift to scaled claws a few times now, but even Nix understood that magic could create an unlimited amount of bizarre situations. He himself could produce electric sparks with little effort, but this didn’t make him a storm. He changed his trajectory back to camp to intercept Xīlōxōch as she returned for some more precious sleep before her watch.
“Xilo… Xiloxi… Wyverna” He surrendered apologetically. “Many…sorry’s, I…will…get…there…I…promise…I…try…many…everydays.”
Nix’s Auridian had definitely improved — he had conversed with more people these last few days than during his whole time on this continent. However, it was a slow progress and this was visibly frustrating to him. After a short smile and a deep breath, Nix continued.
“I’m try not take long but I hear you talk about draconic bloodline. Is this… uh… truth?”
