[At first, he doesn't know what to say. There is no time to absorb what he's seen, to think on what it means -- past that they have a dragon.
As they walk, the thoughts come anyway, quick as arrows.
A dragon is a dragon; it has never been anything but a dragon. Before she was brought here, Daenerys had never been anything but a woman, and he doubts that anyone asked her if she'd like to be something else. He can't control the great strength with which he sometimes finds himself fighting. She can control this, or she wouldn't have been able to show him, but that doesn't mean she always could.
He notices that she isn't looking at him now, and he frowns down at the scales and claws that have overtaken her soft little hand.]
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As they walk, the thoughts come anyway, quick as arrows.
A dragon is a dragon; it has never been anything but a dragon. Before she was brought here, Daenerys had never been anything but a woman, and he doubts that anyone asked her if she'd like to be something else. He can't control the great strength with which he sometimes finds himself fighting. She can control this, or she wouldn't have been able to show him, but that doesn't mean she always could.
He notices that she isn't looking at him now, and he frowns down at the scales and claws that have overtaken her soft little hand.]
Does it hurt?