Hopefully it won't take more than a couple days. We've got a solid lead on the poor thing, now we just need to trap it and take it away, get it out of your hair.
[ Only someone as absolutely mad as Charlie would look at a rampaging, fire-breathing, livestock-devouring creature and think poor thing. But it's true! It's not the dragon's fault that they bumped up against Muggle settlements, or that in their fear and fury they pose a threat to humans around them. Once upon a time, humanity would blink first and simply relocate themselves out of the dragon's way, but now that's no longer the way of the world. Now, it's the dragons that need to be relocated, and few of them who grew up wild and free take too kindly to the notion of captivity, no matter how humane the dragonologists make it.
Charlie can sympathize. The thought of captivity, of being forced into a quiet little life trapped behind walls not of his own making, makes his skin crawl. He's always been made for wide-open spaces, it's why he loves flying so much, why he seriously considered a career in professional sports, why he's built his life in the wild mountains of Romania instead of staying closer to home and finding himself a wife like all his brothers.
And yet, in all his wild and free life, he's yet to spend any time at all in Greece. ] I'd like that. How long have you been here? You can be my guide.
[ He knows enough about Luna to know that, with her as his tour guide, he'll get to see some truly bizarre parts of the islands and almost nothing of the more prosaic tourist destinations. He can't wait.
His beer finished, and hers nearly there, he sets his glass down on the bar and motions to the bartender, ordering in a confusion pidgin of English and Bulgarian for a bottle of spirits, please, as well as a few plates of things to nibble on; he hasn't had dinner yet, and doesn't quite feel like having a full meal, but drinking on an empty stomach is not a good idea. Thankfully, the bartender seems to know exactly what to do, and it's barely a few minutes later when he returns with a chilled bottle of tsipouro and two small glasses that he plonks down in front of them, a heavily-accented slow his only instruction before he disappears back through the doors to the kitchen.
Raising his eyebrows at Luna in amusement, Charlie pours them both a shot and then holds out her glass to her. ]
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[ Only someone as absolutely mad as Charlie would look at a rampaging, fire-breathing, livestock-devouring creature and think poor thing. But it's true! It's not the dragon's fault that they bumped up against Muggle settlements, or that in their fear and fury they pose a threat to humans around them. Once upon a time, humanity would blink first and simply relocate themselves out of the dragon's way, but now that's no longer the way of the world. Now, it's the dragons that need to be relocated, and few of them who grew up wild and free take too kindly to the notion of captivity, no matter how humane the dragonologists make it.
Charlie can sympathize. The thought of captivity, of being forced into a quiet little life trapped behind walls not of his own making, makes his skin crawl. He's always been made for wide-open spaces, it's why he loves flying so much, why he seriously considered a career in professional sports, why he's built his life in the wild mountains of Romania instead of staying closer to home and finding himself a wife like all his brothers.
And yet, in all his wild and free life, he's yet to spend any time at all in Greece. ] I'd like that. How long have you been here? You can be my guide.
[ He knows enough about Luna to know that, with her as his tour guide, he'll get to see some truly bizarre parts of the islands and almost nothing of the more prosaic tourist destinations. He can't wait.
His beer finished, and hers nearly there, he sets his glass down on the bar and motions to the bartender, ordering in a confusion pidgin of English and Bulgarian for a bottle of spirits, please, as well as a few plates of things to nibble on; he hasn't had dinner yet, and doesn't quite feel like having a full meal, but drinking on an empty stomach is not a good idea. Thankfully, the bartender seems to know exactly what to do, and it's barely a few minutes later when he returns with a chilled bottle of tsipouro and two small glasses that he plonks down in front of them, a heavily-accented slow his only instruction before he disappears back through the doors to the kitchen.
Raising his eyebrows at Luna in amusement, Charlie pours them both a shot and then holds out her glass to her. ]