Thalassara's massive front body rises from the water, effortlessly reaching Rhaegor's level in the air while the rest of her fifteen-kilometer-long form remains floating stretched beneath the waves.
Her pale blue eyes are enormous even by dragon standards, smooth and endless in color with no clear pupil—just a glowing depth like the sea itself. She looks at Rhaegor, studying him quietly for a moment before speaking.
Her voice comes out remarkably soft and calm compared to her sheer size.
"So my son still sets the skies ablaze."
Rhaegor rumbles softly in response, "And you still drown everything around you merely by existing, Mother."
They look at each other for a few heartbeats, the air thick with tension. Then, all at once, they both drop that stiff dragon aura completely. Thalassara's expression softens ever so slightly.
"Come here, hatchling."
Rhaegor groans, rolling his massive eyes. "Mother. I am older than most civilizations."
