Good reflexes. His eyes narrow a fraction as he listens before snorting, smoke curling from his nostrils. "Those idiots? Trust me, I'm saving you the trip. Baldur and his flock blame the humans for the state of the world. The Demonic Wars, the conflict that makes Hunters necessary in the first place. If you were lucky they might turn you away with a firm 'piss off'. Or eat you."

He tosses his head towards his own cave. "You won't make anywhere warm before nightfall and I can smell snow in the air. Come inside before you freeze those fingers clean off."

Gabriel's cave is warm and well dug in the rocks. A fire burns merrily in the center. Off to one corner is a large stack of books and another holds puzzles of every kind imaginable. Not every dragon hoards gold and treasure, after all. The dragon pokes around his belongings. "Should have something in here to keep you warm tonight, just a tic kiddo."