Draconia Offline vol. 1

40.1. Restless - Part 1

I'm studying that young man's features, trying to guess his age. Erik isn't even trying, he gave up guessing ages of Draconians weeks ago. Generally, I can roughly tell that the boy Bauerova brought with her can't be more than twenty-five but it's tricky even for me because he's a Clawfang. A wolfish Clawfang to be precise, with snow-white fur and blue eyes. That's pretty rare.

He's not looking at us, he's literally staring. Then he looks at his aunt—a little bit too sheepishly for such an impressive appearance. He's still wearing human clothes and I have to admit that it just looks weird on a Draconian. My perception of fashion has changed a lot over the last few weeks. I'd never go back to human clothes even if I was struggling with robes in the beginning, calling them cosplays.

"That's David, my nephew," Bauerova introduces him plainly but her voice is warm and proud.

"It's Rien now, auntie," the boy finally shows some defiance. He's really anxious so he sounds more frustrated about it than he intended.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to misname you," the Prime Minister apologises quickly. "But you've been David for twenty-two years so, please, bear with me until I break that habit."

So he's twenty-two, I was pretty close. I feel Erik sighing in his mind. For him Rien could be twenty-two as well as forty-two and he wouldn't know the difference.

"Nice to meet you, Rien," Liana assertively puts her hand forward. Rien hesitantly takes it.

"No reason to be nervous around us," Fefnir shakes his hand so enthusiastically that poor Rien almost bounces.

"He didn't meet many Draconians so far," Bauerova coughs nervously. "Please, be gentle with him."

"Sorry for that brute, I'm Ingri," Ingri introduces herself to the newcomer and manages a very sincere smile. Rien relaxes a bit but then he inevitably faces me.

Should I shake his hand? I don't feel like connecting to him right away but I don't want to seem rude so I put my hand forward. Rien, however, widens his wolfish eyes and hastily bows instead of a handshake. Should I be relieved or worried that I'm apparently that scary?

"Rien," Bauerova says, careful to get his gaming name right this time, "is studying economy, second year. It might not seem that impressive but he's been around all major political events since he was a teenager and knows a lot. He should be useful to you."

"I'm sorry, Katerina, but why are you giving him to us now?" Liana asks bluntly. "Isn't his family supportive? You certainly are."

"Well," Bauerova bites her lip. "He can't go back to school. He's been home since his transformation and he was starting to go a bit crazy there, to be frank."

"Naturally, Clawfangs are pack creatures," Fefnir shrugs and pats Rien on his back. Rien flinches, obviously afraid of the huge Dragonkin. Fefnir is extremely friendly with basically everybody but his attempts of friendliness can be easily misunderstood considering his formidable appearance.

"And we can't let him out freely, everyone knows whose nephew he is," Bauerova adds. "He made his avatar too recognisable."

"Paid ingame modifications, huh?" Fefnir ponders. "That snow-white fur must have cost a fortune."

"He spent all his savings on it some years ago, his parents were furious when they found out," Bauerova rolls her eyes. "I still remember it vividly. My dear brother was really angry when he found out that Rien was playing some VR game instead of studying."

"Was he angry when Rien started transforming?" Liana asks.

"Shocked, not angry," Bauerova assures her. "It's not like it's Rien's fault weird shit happened to Draconia."