spur of the moment. However, he had no one to ask why. The only consolation he could take was that, compared to Dagos, all four of them were actually quite nice. Taking into account the behaviour of the other pupils in their class as well, he expected it would be easier to get on with them.
‘Don’t worry, they’ll get over it eventually.’ The calm, quiet voice belonged to the elf, who was sitting on his bench, carefully wrapping bandages around his hands. ‘They’re not really the jerks they’re trying to come across as.’ He stated without looking up. ‘I'm Zane. This is Shath.’ He pointed to the troll, who didn’t seem to mind. ‘And the one who greeted you is Noah.’ Parthir paused dressing and nodded to the dragon. ‘Cedric’s probably introduced himself, but he might just as well have kept quiet.’ The elf shot a meaningful glance at Retfild’s back as he pretended not to have heard the dig.
‘Thanks, I’m Draco.’ He took the plunge and held out his hand to the talkative lad. To his own surprise, the elf shook his hand, then went back to putting on his wraps. The dragon had to admit that Zane didn’t look the part, but his handshake was very firm. On closer inspection, it was hard not to notice that the lad specialised in hand-to-hand combat, as indicated by his worn leather wraps, bruised knuckles and grazes on his palms suggesting familiarity with brass knuckles. Furthermore, it was only now that the dragon was able to tell that the elf was very agile.
‘Cedric was right, though, that you should hurry up.’ Zane looked up, and it turned out that his earlier general weariness with life had been somewhat dispelled by a faint smile. ‘If anything, I’ll wait,’ he added, going back to checking whether he’d tightened the straps properly.
The dragon didn’t need to be told this so many times and began to move of his own accord, even though he didn’t know what to do next. He wasn’t really prepared for practical training and doubted he’d find
