Don't believe in no-win scenarios

They seem so young in their excitement, much more than they truly are. Paarthurnax’s head lowers from watching the dancers out on the floor - he has never seen a spriggan like that, nor one that dances, and it’s intriguing. Not so intriguing that he isn’t pleased to see his human hosts arrive. There’s a scent of fresh blood suggesting he’s eaten in the meantime, but thankfully no sign of gore.

“Pruzah. Your return is welcome.” He shifts on his perch, talons digging into the concrete as he leans closer. A polite distance must always be kept, though they all know that makes little difference when dealing with a dragon.

“You spoke of questions. But I also have questions for you. One of you carries the scent of Taazokaan... of Tamriel.” His head swings gently from Felix to focus on Jim. “But you are of another realm, I think. Where do you come from, wunduniik?”