The dragonet blinks innocently up at Biffy, her wings still tidily folded, as if she wouldn't even dream of stretching them, let alone trying to make use of them. It's belies an intelligence that's almost unnerving. Dragons back home might be more clever than normal animals, but they were still animals. You wouldn't expect to see one feigning innocence.

On the other hand, it's also such a child-like gesture, the who, me? implicit, that Greta finds herself biting back a smile. She rather suspects the creature would fit right in amongst the children at the Gardens.

"Thank you," she says, settling herself on the couch while she waits for the tea to brew. Pawvus soon leaps lightly up beside her, butting his head up against her arm. Greta lifts her hand to scritch between the cat's ears. "When do you expect her?" she asks, wary of overstaying her welcome despite the explicit invitation. She wouldn't mind meeting Daine, though she's obviously not at her best and brightest -- but that's all the more reason not to linger here too long, as if her own dour mood might be catching.