Noctis closed his eyes and tilted his head into the touch, enjoying the feel of the weretiger's hand brushing his hair back slightly. Not that he would ever tell Kostya that. He would never let the weretiger know he was enjoying something. Kostya could use it against him one day.
"We are susceptible to the cold," Noctis started off because clearly Kostya wasn't going to do any research on his own, "if I concentrate hard enough I can heat my skin hot enough to burn someone." He had done that once without realizing what happened. It hadn't been pretty and he hadn't tried to do it again. "From what I read I should be able to breath fire which is where the smoke comes from and I always have the urge to fly." Noctis knew he was helping his Master learn more but the weredragon was tired, cold, and it still hurt to breath but he wouldn't complain. So he concentrated on something else. Like educating his idiot Master.