"The Dragon Council would know, if nothing else; I can loan you my crystal to them."

"That would be helpful."

Jensal goes and gets her crystal and hands it over. "Do you need me to explain how to use it?"

Matilda peers at it. "I'm getting better at seeing wizardry," she says. "I just hit it with something and then it's like a phone?"

"...I don't know what a phone is, but hitting it with something is the operation procedure."

"Okay." She hits the crystal.

The crystal rings. Someone answers it. "What is it?" they ask in Draconic.

"Hello," says Matilda, also in Draconic. "I'm the person who figured out how to fix shrens, and I want to find out why dragon babies die a lot so I can fix that too. Do you know where I can find dragon babies to look at?"

"...You mean, ones less than a month old, who might still die?"

"Yes. That kind," she says.

"You're just going to look at them?"

"Yes. Until I find out why they die a lot, and then I will do magic to them so they don't," she says.

"...My daughter has a clutch right now. Do you need their address, or...?"

"Yes, please. Oh! And I think we also accidentally figured out how to make dragons stop dying of old age," she adds. "But we're not sure yet."

"...That's also very interesting. We'll want to hear more about that later." The dragon rattles off an address in Gibryel.

"Thank you," says Matilda. She hands Jensal her crystal back and teleports to the provided address.

The provided address is a cute little townhouse painted periwinkle.

Matilda knocks on the door.

A fellow with golden eyes answers the door. He seems surprised to see a seven-year-old girl on his doorstep. There is a baby dragon wrestling with his hair. He estimates her likely ethnic background based on incorrect assumptions and says, in Kandaph, "Are you lost?"

"No," says Matilda, in Draconic. "I'm here to look at baby dragons and try to find out why they die so much so I can make it stop. I have a lot of magic."

The man squints at her hair when she starts speaking Draconic. "...Okay..." He gestures at the baby dragon on his head.

"I can't tell anything weird about that one... can I look at more? When baby dragons die is it very sudden and inexplicable like old age, or does it happen some other way?"

"The others are napping. You can come in. They... they cough, and they don't stop coughing until they stop breathing," he murmurs, motioning her inside.

"That's not like old age, then. I might still want to try giving them magic transplants if I can't see anything weird about any of them," she says, lowering her voice on account of napping babies as she comes in.