[ There is a sweetness to him, she thinks, to see him wrapped up so, covered to hide from the winter chill. Winter had been a harsher season in the forests, far less food to hunt and more need for the dried meats and the scant food she might grow herself, but it had been tolerable. She had slept as a wolf, she had been able to curl up and find respite, in spite of it all.

She wonders how it would be, to be a dragon and experience the winter. To feel the chill of snow on scales, rather than fur, or to fly above the clouds and see the sleet settle on the earth below. She had not thought of it often, but it settles in her mind now, something warm and fond in her as she focuses on Aemond.

His dragon, he calls her, and it warms her more than any coat might. His lady, he says, and the term has never suited her so well. ]

I am content. I do not mind the chill in the air, though it seems to have captured you.

[ One hand lifts, the edge of her knuckle brushing against the skin bared under his scarf, glove silk on his cooler skin, her smile warming all the more for their closeness, the way he touches the ring around her neck. ]

Do you need a fire to warm you?