She somehow manages flopping even more thoroughly, body language shifting to languid rather than contemplative and somewhat pouting.

"Does it take a lot of time to get that good at magic?"

"I first cast that spell when I was around two thousand years old."

She whistles. "I'll have to keep practicing, then."

"That spell was at the extreme end of complexity. A reasonable degree of competence is easily attainable within a mortal's lifespan."

"Good. Still, I should have more than that."

"I think you will, in time."

"Yeah! And learning magic's fun."

Ellisaria laughs, softly.

She rolls over a bit.

'What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I am not used to such- eagerness."

"Do most dragons think magic's boring?"

"You are much younger and less jaded than most of my acquaintances."

"They're probably boring, then."

"Not at all times, but quite often."

"Well, I'll try to be rarely boring, at least."

"You have not been so far."

"Heh." Stretch. "So - more magic lessons?"

More magic lessons.

And, a day later, Russet returns, leading an old man in grey robes. She waves when she sees them, and introduces him as "Gandalf the Grey."

"It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance," he says, cheerfully.

"Hello, wizard."

"Hello. Russet says your names are Ellisaria the Black and Brisingr?"

"That is correct."

He hums, sitting on a nearby boulder, letting his staff lean idly against him. "I'll admit, it's been a rather long time since I last met a dragon, so my manners might be a little rusty. Still, Azeroth is not a place I've heard of before, nor Ellisaria a name I recognize."

"That does not surprise me. The cosmology of this world does not accord with that of my own."