Well. She's right. She checked three times, there's no doubt to it.
"Look," she mutters to herself, "I get it, it's scary, but deal. You are not allowed to - to -" To what? Go home? Maybe try to work up the courage later? Maybe try and avoid the shren house like so many other dragons?
It was a door. It's idiotic to be afraid of a door. Sure, there were shrens on the other side of it, but there could conceivably be shrens on the other side of lots of doors, some of them were in hiding, hair dye existed. Subtle colors existed. She could have been near shrens any number of times.
That - did not actually make her fear go away. Instead it makes her want to curl up in her little apartment and not go outside again.
Great. Okay. Stop that train of thought, it's not useful. If she stands here any longer, people are going to stare. (Is that person over there staring? Probably. Damn.) Just - door. Go. Walk.
She forces herself to walk to the door, somewhat stiffly. And then she is at the door. ... Does she knock? Does she just open it and go in? She has no idea. It's customary to knock, so... She takes a deep breath and does so. Resisting the urge to flee and teleport away (or scamper into the bushes) isn't easy, but she manages it.
"Of these? Sure. I can do it now if you have paper, I don't know better spells for it off of the top of my head."
"Let me know if you have any questions, or want to look up my sources. I don't think I cited everything properly."
None of them let her look at dragon magic. This might be relevant.
"Nnnno, I don't. I couldn't find one anywhere and wanted to check the obvious routes before I went and tried to invent one." She smiles at Ehail. "And now I suppose turnabout's fair play. May I have a copy of your notes?"
"You haven't analyzed any dragons with this," she observes. "... Do you want to fix that? Right now?"
"... That. I wonder if that's it. Shrens - aren't missing any dragon abilities but flight in natural form, right? Nothing obscure that I'm not aware of? All forms present and accounted for?"
She looks at Ehail. "You know the obvious thing to do with this is to go analyze baby dragons," she points out. "Do you want me to send you notes on things I find with your analysis? I'll credit you for it, or - er, leave you anonymous if you'd like. Or - actually, are you okay with me running off cackling with your darling analysis to analyze everything even vaguely dragon-like?"
"Yes," she says, realizing the obvious implications. "I'll - send you all of my notes. What's your line name, I'll mail you religiously."
"Oh."
Avet looks at Ehail. She realizes the other obvious implications.
"... I - sorry. I'm sorry, I'm a social klutz, I um. Sorry."
"So, uh, I'll send you updates. Do you want me to mention your name when I say who's responsible for the analysis, or remain anonymous? I won't take credit for your work..."
"I don't want to take credit for your work," says Avet, more gently. "It's - wrong." She uses the draconic word for morally wrong and also a bad idea. Draconic: convenient like that. "But I'll leave you anonymous? If anyone asks?"