The heavy silence following Jett’s chilling hypothesis stretched, thick with unspoken questions and the weight of their new reality. Roland stared intently at the small white dragonet trembling almost imperceptibly against William’s leg, then surveyed the grim faces of his team. The mission parameters had shifted beneath their feet. He sighed, a sound like grating stone, scrubbing a hand over his weary face.

  “Jett's reasoning is sound,” he stated finally, his voice low but decisive, meeting William's anxious gaze. “Leaving it risks Neverus gaining a potentially powerful asset. Taking it...” He frowned, eyes narrowing as he assessed the tiny creature again. “...introduces an unknown, high-maintenance variable into a mission demanding speed and stealth.” He made the call, pragmatism warring with the undeniable strategic imperative. “Alright, William. You seem to be the designated point of contact for this… anomaly. It is now your responsibility. Care for it, protect it, and above all,” his eyes hardened, “ensure it does not compromise this mission or endanger the Prince. Understood?”

  William felt the weight settle onto his shoulders, heavy as his waterlogged pack had been. Task assigned: Dragon Caretaker / Inter-species Liaison / Potential Liability Manager. Great. Add it to the job description. He nodded solemnly. “Understood, Sir Roland. I'll take full responsibility.”

  As if understanding the shift, the dragonet looked up, its large blue eyes fixing on each of them in turn. Then, startlingly, a clear thought bloomed not just in William's mind, but, judging by the sudden shocked widening of eyes around him, in everyone's.

  < Thank you, > the young, clear mental voice resonated, filled with relief and gratitude. < Thank you all. >

  The effect was instantaneous. Roland flinched back half a step, hand instinctively going to his sword hilt again. Caspian yelped, dropping his notebook. Julia gasped, her hand flying to her chest. Jett just went utterly still, eyes narrowed, assessing this new development. It wasn't just that it communicated telepathically, but that it could apparently broadcast to the entire group.

  < Oh! > The dragonet's mental voice took on a note of surprised discovery. < This is much easier! I can reach all your minds at once! I didn't realize the range… Apologies, William-Saviour, for focusing only on you initially. Your mind… it felt clearest, most open, like a… like a well-structured signal amidst chaotic noise. > William resisted the urge to groan. Fantastic. My brain is apparently broadcasting readable metadata. < You smelled of the offering, the boar that saved me. I had been alone since hatching, you see. My mother… > A wave of cold sadness washed through their minds, brief but intense. < ...perished. The cold came. The prey fled. I was too weak to hunt, too small to fly far… waiting. >

  The simple, direct honesty, the raw vulnerability projected telepathically, seemed to disarm them more effectively than any plea. Julia visibly softened, taking another step closer, her expression shifting from surprise to gentle concern.

  < But I promise I will not be a burden! > the dragonet's thoughts regained enthusiasm. < I wish to repay your kindness! And perhaps… perhaps I can help now! You should go back! Back towards the riverbank where you found me! There is something there! > Excitement pulsed from it. < Something important! It’s hidden. You’ll know when you see it… something significant! You should look! You must look! >

  The unexpected offer hung in the air. Go back? To where the goblins might still be searching? To investigate a vague feeling from a baby dragon?

  Roland frowned sceptically, but before he could dismiss it, Caspian, predictably, surged forward again, academic curiosity instantly overriding caution. “Significant? How so? What did you feel? A magical resonance? An unusual energy signature? Describe the…”

  “Caspian,” Julia interrupted gently but firmly, placing a hand on his arm, subtly positioning herself slightly between the eager prince and the small dragonet. “Perhaps give our new… acquaintance… a moment.” She looked at the dragonet with a soft expression William hadn't seen before. Subject Julia: Protective instincts engaged.

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  The dragonet seemed to ignore Caspian's barrage, its blue eyes fixed solely on William, head tilted. < Well? Will you look? It is important, to me! And I feel it will be important to you too. >

  William processed rapidly. New intel source: Juvenile Dragon (Untested Reliability). Claim: Unidentified 'Significant' item/energy near previous location. Risk of return: Moderate (Potential goblin presence). Potential reward: Unknown (High variance). Still, ignoring potential intel felt wrong. “You seem certain,” he thought back, focusing his intent. < Can you describe this feeling more? >

  < Like… like warm crystal deeply buried in ice, underground, hidden beneath the water. I’m not sure what powers it holds, but it feels powerful? Different. > The dragonet's mental 'shrug' was palpable. < I am young. My senses are not fully formed. But it felt… notable. >

  William made a quick decision. It was a risk, but the dragonet seemed sincere, and ignoring a potential clue felt like bad data management. He turned to Roland. “Sir Roland, it… insists there's something worth investigating near where we found it. It can't describe it well, but feels it's important.” He met the commander's sceptical gaze. “Given that its presence might be linked to Neverus's goals, investigating anything unusual in this area seems prudent before we proceed south.”

  Roland considered this, then looked at Jett, who gave a noncommittal shrug, indicating no immediate danger detected nearby. “Fine,” Roland conceded gruffly. “A quick reconnaissance only. Jett, lead us back cautiously.” He looked sternly at William. “And find out if your... charge... has a name.”

  William nodded solemnly. “Understood, Sir Roland. I'll take full responsibility.” He turned his focus back to the small creature, projecting the thought clearly: < Alright, if you're potentially joining us, you need a name. We can't just keep calling you 'little dragon'. What should we call you? >

  Excitement flooded the mental connection, displacing the earlier fear and desperation. < Name? > The thought vibrated with wonder. < I have no name! Mother never… before she… > A flicker of sadness, quickly overwhelmed by enthusiasm. < No one has ever given me a name! Do I get to choose? Can it be fierce and noble? Like… like… Frostfang! Or maybe Shadow-That-Devours-Stars! Or Night-Whisper-on-Glacial-Winds! Or… > A rapid-fire list of increasingly dramatic and unsuitable names cascaded through William’s mind.

  William chuckled internally, projecting gentle amusement to stem the flow. < Hold on, hold on. Those are... very impressive. But maybe something a little less likely to attract unwanted attention right now? > He considered the small, shimmering white form pressed against his leg. < You're white as snow, seem linked to the cold... How about 'Icy' for now? Simple, descriptive. >

  A pulse of pure delight answered him. < Icy! Yes! It feels… right! Cold, like Mother's memory! I am Icy! > The dragonet, Icy, seemed to puff up slightly with newfound identity, then immediately followed with another torrent of excited thoughts directed at William. < Does this mean you'll keep me safe? Where are we going now? Will we find more boar? Why does the big armoured one > (Roland?) < project such grumpy thoughts? Is his metal shell uncomfortable? Do all humans...? >

  William winced slightly at the sheer volume and speed of the mental chatter now that the initial connection was firmly established. Okay, maybe 'Icy' covers the visuals, but not the current auditory bandwidth consumption. He sighed internally, then spoke aloud, partly to the dragonet mentally, partly to the bewildered team watching his silent communion. “Alright, 'Icy' seems agreeable...” he paused, then added with a wry glance at the still mentally-chattering dragonet, “...though given the sudden verbosity, perhaps 'Chatterbox' might also be in the running?”

  Icy's internal stream of questions abruptly cut off. < Icy... Chatterbox...? > The thought held genuine confusion, followed by a flicker of intense contemplation only William could perceive. < Icy is... descriptive. Cold. Like the memory of Mother's wing. > A mental pause. < But Chatterbox is... active? Like my thoughts are now? Like the sounds you make? Do I talk too much? Am I being too noisy? But that can’t be right, as there is no noise involved with telepathy, still Chatterbox sounds interesting… Hmm, I wonder, let me consider which one sounds best. > The dragonet seemed lost in thought, head tilted, tail now still.

  William just shook his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips despite the sheer absurdity of debugging a baby dragon's naming convention crisis via telepathy. He turned back to the others, who had clearly heard him suggest both names aloud while seemingly lost in thought.

  “It's, uh...” William began, searching for words, “...apparently weighing the semantic and functional implications of both 'Icy' and 'Chatterbox'.” He offered a weak shrug. “Seems quite focused on the decision process right now. It... hasn't chosen yet.”

  William sighed internally, suppressing a smile. Initial Assessment: Asset requires significant user interface refinement and possibly a mute button. He glanced back at the others, and all they could see was horrified looks as if staring daggers at him. Was there a problem, did I do something wrong?