“Dragons have it easy sometimes,” Fen smiled. “They deal with the brunt of the injuries in Fall and get to live care-free lives. We humans over-think everything.”
K’rin couldn’t trust her anymore? That seemed harsh. He reached for a refill of his cup. “So if you’re stable and K’rin doesn’t think you are, how are we going to prove that you’re ready to fly in two days when the wings are called up again? That’s not much time.” They’d already burned half of their time between Thread attacks and she’s seemed fine. He wondered if she’d just seen T’sga alone in the hall and snapped. He of all people could understand that feeling, but dragonriders did not fight. He sighed. “I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it,” he admitted. He drained his cup, grimaced at the slightly bitter aftertaste, and turned to lean one arm on the tabletop and face her. “I’m the one that flies off the handle. If you start doing it what will my role in this relationship be?”