Tzilan smiled and shook his head at the young dragon's happy cry, which set Ratha's tail to irritably lashing. And the bigger dragon... had to move to accomodate her, awkwardly squawking and sliding his clawed wings along the stone so that Shima could press closer against his Scion than he crouched.

He stared at this predicament like a bewildered doberman, his lean, scaled face all hard lines and baffled tilt.

Tzilan tipped his sharp chin up.

"First there were two scions; then a dozen; and now... many dozen? It is a scaling-up of effort. We were brought here for a purpose, and that purpose will soon be coming to hand. And I... dislike being used, manipulated, or being kept in the dark."