The boy was shameless, staring at you with little care for the curiosity in his eyes.

“What made you wanna help us?”

He asked, pointing at himself and his dragon, who watched you with a tenseness to her wings. Murtagh was gone, but you suspected he was simply watching from a distance.

The boy raised his eyebrows, grinning dumbly, and you had to remind yourself that this was a sixteen year old boy; teenagers always made a fool of themselves.