A Hunter without a dragon is a rare thing indeed. Either the guy was really good, or really crazy. Considering he brought his two kids with him? Gabriel knows which direction he's leaning. But he doesn't comment. His upbringing wasn't exactly conventional even by draconic standards.

Then the kid mentions his name and it takes all of Gabriel's self control not to react. Sweet Hopping Hell. A Winchester. One of the few remaining bloodlines that could tame one of the ancients and form a bond without his head caving in.

"Gabe," he offers. Not exactly his true name, but it's close enough in this instance. "I can find a few saplings for you to strap up if the racks don't work."

"So why hunt without a dragon? Seems like that'd be safer. The right breeds are fierce defenders of kids."