"I am tired!" Drake protested loudly, looking up at Alina as if betrayed by her very existence. "Not sick! Tired is normal! Everyone gets tired! Even mountains get tired. Rocky said so!"
Madame Thistle slowly closed her book with deliberate precision.
"My, my," she hummed, adjusting her glasses so they sat perfectly on her nose. "When a dragon announces he is not sick before I even examine him, that is already suspicious. Very suspicious. Highly suspicious."
Drake gasped, genuinely offended. "That is unfair. That is profiling. You are profiling me based on my defensiveness."
Alina tried not to laugh and mostly succeeded.
Madame Thistle slid down from her chair with surprising grace for someone her age and walked over, her soft shoes making almost no sound against the wooden floor. She moved like a cat, unhurried and deliberate.
She circled Drake once.
Then twice.
