Dirae gave an irritated glance at her dragon. A glance he pointedly ignored. “If you don’t want him there, shoo him off.” She told the Asura. “If he gets stubborn and keeps coming, back, shoot him. Try not to do it more than twice though.” The Siren grinned. “I’m not sure I can rebuild him from more than two bullet wounds.” The dragon gave another buzz. “Oh, yes I would. She has every right to shoot you if you get too annoying. The only reason I haven’t shot you yet is because I couldn’t aim at something as small and as fast as you to save my life.” Dirae retorted. The dragon buzzed again, this time more high pitched. “You don’t even know what that word means! You heard it from a drunk mercenary complaining about his wife who had left him for another man!” This could have easily gone on for several minutes, if the male Siren hadn’t arrived. He actively tried to avoid eye-contact with Dirae. That, naturally, made her actively try to catch his eye. She was curious. Was there anything, aside from the obvious, that was different between the two of them?

When the question of the plane wings came up Dirae ignored the conversation, and looked at the wings, head tilted to the side slightly. She could do it, if she had the right tools. Taking the wings off without unnecessarily damaging the plane would be fairly simple. Something she could have done in her sleep. The problem came with putting them back on so that they still worked as they had before. That would have required more time. Time that they probably wouldn’t have if they were suddenly attacked by bandits. All in all, she agreed with the rest. Trudy should fly, if only to rain bullets down upon anyone who attacked them. 

“Well, if the question of ‘what should we do with the plane’ is settled, and everything else is packed, should we be going?”