Rasmus threw his head back and rolled his eyes. He really couldn't anymore with the whole Mr. Rune routine. It made him sound like a yuppie. And he wasn't a yuppie. Honestly. Did he look like a yuppie? No, sir, he did not. Lucas looked more like a yuppie than he did.
"Please. It's just Rasmus. My name isn't Mister. And don't worry. I won't tell anyone about your dragon sex fetish thing."
Even if it did creep Rasmus out a little bit. And not because he was a dragon. Oh no. That had absolutely nothing to do with it. In fact, he assumed everyone was into dragons. They were ... big, after all. What more could someone want? No, it was more the furry costume thing that was disturbing to him. Especially since dragons didn't have fur. Not unless they were moldy dragons. And if Lucas was into moldy dragons then he was worse off than even Rasmus presumed him to be.
But Lucas decided it was important to explain his dragon obsession so Rasmus, in a show of well restrained patience (aka a miracle,) indulged him by listening.
"That's a very romantic view on flying lizards. I applaud your poetry. But I'm sure there are some downsides to being a dragon as well. I think they're better left to metaphors. If you want to be strong then you can imagine yourself a dragon and be strong. There's no need to actually sprout wings and burn down villages."
But Lucas's words did prick a tiny heart string inside of Rasmus. Something about the words breached his hard exterior. It was nice to hear someone speak reverently about dragons for a change. It had been centuries since he'd heard that kind of admiration for his kind. Not that it made up for centuries of horrors, but it was nice to hear.
"Fresh fruit. Fresh bread. Yoghurt. An assortment of jams and cheeses. No one goes to a B&B for Cheerios and Fruit Loops. They can stay home and eat that. You should go to the farmer's market and get local products. City people think that's chic."