A flurry of crimson scales and blonde hair materialized beside Draven. It was Moira, her fiery temper burning brighter than the setting sun. News of the brawl had reached her ears, and she was not pleased.
"Draven!" she roared, her voice cracking with barely contained fury. "How can you let this go? It's an insult to the entire Dragon race! When Axl hears of this…"
Draven cut her off with a sigh. "Moira, who's the idiot who picked a fight with a blessed, the number one student at that?" He gestured towards Azrael, who stood looking sheepish despite his bloody knuckles.
"You've seen what the Top 6 can do, Moira. Remember the trials? This one here, in all his wisdom, just had to poke the bear. But if you want to go on a suicide mission…" He trailed off, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "Just know you won't have my support."