Daine’s ears prick. Big ones - dragonlike (fennec-like. It’s a family trait, those ears,) and she shifts herself to her feet. There is no heed paid to appearances. Tiran - his scent is unmistakable - will not be perturbed by an eight-and-a-quarter foot tall dragon woman, or so her casual stride suggests.
She opens the door soundlessly, and with a smile, tail wagging behind her. She has a scarf about her hips, and nothing on her chest - it’s needless anyway, she’s more reptilian today than not. “Sweetheart! Kiir Tafiiri!" Daine beams, settling back on her haunches just enough to look Tiran in the face with an inclination of her long neck. "I don’t remember the last time you came to visit!"
"You’re skinny as a twig. Have you been eating? In, in, in."
I’m utterly doomed, she doesn’t have a clue.
It’s not the best of thoughts to such a warm welcome, though it eases him a little to hear and see how pleased she is. He really should visit more, instead of the occasional phone call.
An uneasy smile settles on his features was he wanders in, and despite being in good, safe, company he can’t help but expect the worst. “Am I? Well, kinda, yeah? I mean. I’ve been exercising a lot more recently.”
Yeah like a ten thousand percent increase to keep sane, other than that just dandy.
"I uh…wanted to talk to you about recent events. And other things too." Tiran’s gaze was indirect, almost shameful in how he couldn’t look Daine in the eyes. This felt different than the other talks. Throat worked to swallow nothing and his hands seemed to be occupied with the buttons on his shirt or just in rubbing his arms.
With his partially hunched shoulders and slouched stature, he seemed incredibly small next to the dragon-woman, just like he felt.
Daine takes note of his posture with a cant of her head - his voice with a flick forward of her ears. She closes the door behind him, and her wagging tail drifts to a stop. She takes Tiran by the shoulders, and holds him out at arm’s reach, inspecting him carefully.
“Kiiri, what happened…?” Daine’s large ears swivel backwards, and her expressive eyes narrow with concern. “Never mind other things, or beating around the bush, something is bothering you, you keep fiddling with your clothes and rubbing your arms and trying to make yourself small…”
"…What’s around your neck?" Daine tilts her head, getting a good look at the collar ‘round Tiran’s neck.