By rights, given the Ancient Dragons' longevity, they should not have cared much about whether they were old or not. Yet things went against expectations.
"Who are you calling old?!"
Though Flynn was a mage, who knew where she had learned grappling? She launched herself into a flying cross armbar, pouncing Drogo to the floor—one thigh braced across his chest, the other pressing his neck, both hands locking down his dragon claws.
"You are old!"
Locked down or not, stubborn was stubborn. Drogo answered without hesitation.
"I'm only a few months older than you!"
"I'm an old male dragon to begin with!"
Aisha stared, dumbfounded, as two Ancient Dragons old enough to have lived through the previous epoch brawled like she and her brother had when fighting over toys at age six. Of course, she had not known how to do flying cross armbars at six.
Perhaps Flynn realized she was being improper, because Aisha was dragged into an illusion.
"No! Why are you illusioning me? Who's going to make up for the gossip I missed?!" Aisha made her final protest.
A moment later, peace returned to the magazine office.
Flynn wore an expression that said, "If you don't apologize, I'll at least stay mad until tomorrow before considering forgiving you."
Drogo held out for a moment. "Fine, it was indeed a little childish."
"Hah, see? I told you!"
"So the belt should be able to summon an actual construct."
"Huh?"
Half an hour later, Drogo arrived at the toy store with a sketch of the belt and summoned the store's current chief toy designer, Kalaman Aclight, whom they had poached from next door.
Kalaman truly loved toys. Aside from managing the toy store, he spent nearly all his time designing new ones.
After releasing an entire line of spinning