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"Right. Well. White-groups don't have group abilities."

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Avet winces. "Yes, right, for - obvious reasons."

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?"
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"You can analyze anyone you like with it," says Ehail. "I'd - I'd appreciate copies of further notes you make, of course. But I haven't been able to, myself, you understand -"

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"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."
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"I'm just Ehail."
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"Oh."

Avet looks at Ehail. She realizes the other obvious implications.

"... I - sorry. I'm sorry, I'm a social klutz, I um. Sorry."
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Shrug.

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Awkward, tentative smile. Avet wants vaguely to hug Ehail, but she's pretty sure that is a Bad Idea. So she doesn't offer.

"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..."
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"You don't have to mention me. There's no point."

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"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?"

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"Okay."

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Avet makes a complicated face at Ehail.

"I would happily write your name on a giant banner and wave it around like a madwoman while loudly proclaiming that you invented your fancy spell," she says, lightly. "If you wanted me to. But you don't seem to? Or am I misreading you?"
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Blink. "Why - would I want you to do that?"

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"Well, I don't know, I wouldn't want anyone to do it for me, but if you wanted me to I would."

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"Please don't."

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"I will not," she promises.

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"Thank you."

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"You're welcome. But, seriously, if you want credit, by name, I will give you credit, by name, and then glare at any dragon that scoffs at it and then ask them if they would like to keep letting their children die because a shren invented the spell that maybe might help stop it."

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"I don't - no, please."

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"Okay. Then I won't do that." Pause. "And - er, sorry, for being pushy, I - want the world to be fair to you." Draconic, again. Fair as in morally right, fair as in logical, fair as in everyone gets it. No exceptions.

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Ehail looks away.

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"... Sorry. Social klutz," she sighs. "I didn't mean to upset you."

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"It's fine. It doesn't matter."

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Avet wants to ask Is it because you think you don't matter? but doesn't.

"I think it matters if you're upset," she says, instead.
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"I'm fine."

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