“They’re not drakes. They’re not dragons. They’re not even draconic. They’re my kids, and I would really appreciate it if you could refrain from calling them ‘whelps’. If anything, they’re youngsters. Or kids. Or… children. But not whelps.” Kalysto set a kettle on the stove. “Want some tea?” She kept her ears high over her head as she listened to the conversation in the next room.
Rhyderi slowly shook his head. “My. I don’t even know what to say. This is beyond anything I can comprehend. I… I think I need to leave.” He quietly rose to his feet and headed for the door.