[...Okay this all feels WAY too familiar in some way when he's convinced... It... Shouldn't...??
He doesn't know these people! He CAN'T know them! He's the guardian of this garden, that's been his sole duty for his entire immortal life! It always has been! So... Why does listening to this tiny woodslady and this looming wolf-man both tag-team RELENTLESSLY ROAST HIM fill him with a feeling which... He can really only describe as nostalgia?
He's also just. Vexed. Vexed by this approach, straight up and down. He tries to stammer to interrupt a few times, but falls short and becomes tongue-tied when he realizes he has no actual rebuttal to provide. When he can't get a word in edge-wise he falls back on drawing himself up higher, and tries to look imperious and indignant and outraged about whatever this ridiculous ritual they're performing is. But it's undercut by the way his eyes dart back and forth between both speakers, each and every time one of them chimes in with a new observation.
Finally, he starts to turn to keep eyes on Barok as he strides, bristling and staring at him particularly hard... But he looks less like a dragon at the moment, and more like a cornered rat. He arches his back and involuntarily curls his tail up under his own belly, unconsciously shielding his fairy tale mandated Weak Point where all the cool knights and heroes are supposed to stab him in an epic duel.]
Wh... Weakness!? What are you talking about!? I don't... What even is this!? Why are you walking around and snapping your fingers like that!? Stop it!
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He doesn't know these people! He CAN'T know them! He's the guardian of this garden, that's been his sole duty for his entire immortal life! It always has been! So... Why does listening to this tiny woodslady and this looming wolf-man both tag-team RELENTLESSLY ROAST HIM fill him with a feeling which... He can really only describe as nostalgia?
He's also just. Vexed. Vexed by this approach, straight up and down. He tries to stammer to interrupt a few times, but falls short and becomes tongue-tied when he realizes he has no actual rebuttal to provide. When he can't get a word in edge-wise he falls back on drawing himself up higher, and tries to look imperious and indignant and outraged about whatever this ridiculous ritual they're performing is. But it's undercut by the way his eyes dart back and forth between both speakers, each and every time one of them chimes in with a new observation.
Finally, he starts to turn to keep eyes on Barok as he strides, bristling and staring at him particularly hard... But he looks less like a dragon at the moment, and more like a cornered rat. He arches his back and involuntarily curls his tail up under his own belly, unconsciously shielding his fairy tale mandated Weak Point where all the cool knights and heroes are supposed to stab him in an epic duel.]
Wh... Weakness!? What are you talking about!? I don't... What even is this!? Why are you walking around and snapping your fingers like that!? Stop it!