[ There's something unconventionally reassuring in Alastor's words that helps settle her disquiet feelings about him, the budding fear that she might have misjudged him all these years. But it seems she hasn't. A monster, he calls himself, and Zelda would be naïve to argue against that, so she won't. But a monster a bit different from the rest. Neither fully good nor fully evil, but somewhere in between, as most people are.
His suggestion that she talk to the Light Dragon, however, does not receive the same benefit of the doubt.
Zelda frowns in the dragon's direction; the dragon, in turn, simply blinks its rainbow eyes. ]
I wish that I could, but I can't. It is not capable of speech.
[ Which is true. The Light Dragon cannot speak in the conventional manner. But it certainly understands Zelda-- as well as Alastor, as he noticed earlier. It uncurls its serpentine form and swims up into the clouds again. ]
...And now it's gone. Again. [ She heaves a defeated sigh. ]
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His suggestion that she talk to the Light Dragon, however, does not receive the same benefit of the doubt.
Zelda frowns in the dragon's direction; the dragon, in turn, simply blinks its rainbow eyes. ]
I wish that I could, but I can't. It is not capable of speech.
[ Which is true. The Light Dragon cannot speak in the conventional manner. But it certainly understands Zelda-- as well as Alastor, as he noticed earlier. It uncurls its serpentine form and swims up into the clouds again. ]
...And now it's gone. Again. [ She heaves a defeated sigh. ]