CaptainPunk

Punk shuffles his forepaws under Winter's disbelieving stare. He's not really sure what the problem is; plenty of dragons have familiars. Plenty of dragons have...non-standard familiars. His really isn't all that strange, is it?

"Let me get this straight," Winter says slowly. "You're letting that go with you into battle."

"Well--"

"A shield."

"Do you think it's an unfair advantage?" Punk asks, eying the enchanted armaments he'd found dumped just outside his lair during the last Night of the Nocturne. He suspects Stark may have been the culprit, but whether they were meant as a gift, a joke, or simply dropped and forgotten is anyone's guess.

Winter's stare ramps up to incredulous. "It's a fraction of your size, Punk. What exactly is it supposed to be shielding you from? A determined fae? An angry wyrmpeck? A--"

"Oh, come on. You take your familiar into battle," Punk huffs, glancing past Winter at the massive hydra brooding over him, its focus never wavering.

Winter grimaces, tail lashing. "That's not mine."

Rearing back his head, Punk stares at Winter, then at the hydra. "But...it follows you everywhere."

"Exactly."