"Here we are!"

Deborah threw open the door to the expansive-- and expensive apartments-- she shared with her father. Or, she would have, if it hadn't opened of its own accord; the intent was there, if not the action. For Purpura-- already reeling from having to pass through the crowds of people, dragons, things that were neither one, and things that didn't even smell alive, just to get to those apartments-- the first thing he noticed, and noticed with great relief, was that they were empty of people. He followed her inside, not sure his brain could take in any more strange things; his normally boundless mind for memorizing details and storing away odd little facts felt full and overloaded. He'd never imagined that things could be this different where Deborah lived-- but it was! Everything even smelled strange and dry, partly like metal and partly something he couldn't recognize. There was magic here, but it was strange magic, and he could hardly sense dirt, much less plantlife, anywhere within range.

Not that he disliked it. He just didn't like it yet. Once he got used to it, Purpura figured he'd be indifferent at worst to the stations environs. It was just now that he was wondering just what he'd gotten into. Deborah seemed to have expected it, though, and was sympathetic. She didn't even stop to talk to any of the half-dozen people who'd tried to catch her attention-- just in the few steps it took to get from portal to lifts, and then from lift to apartment! Purpura had to wonder whether Deborah was actually more popular than he was. Instead, she pleaded exhaustion and a desire to show her new bond home-- and had neatly forestalled questions by sweeping away from them, letting Purpura trot along behind her, looking over his shoulder at the mildly bewildered faces they left behind. Actually, he felt mildly bewildered, himself!

Elsie and Aduri, and Mariette and Demulcei had parted ways with them at the lift, presumably to find their own new homes; luggage had been sent separately, via an attendant of some sort; and Deborah's father had been called away almost the instant he set foot on the station's metallic floor. Even Copper, Deborah's shadowing pet, had somehow found another place to be just then. That left Purpura and Deborah, alone and unburdened, to make their way home together. Faced with Deborah's apartments, half-expecting a huge family or, almost as bad, a huge host of servants like a rich dragon might employ, was daunting after their trek across the station, through all the people and machinery.

"Home sweet home," Deborah sighed, smiling.

The room they entered was not only empty of people, animals, and noisy machinery, it looked almost normal! The floor was carpeted in rich, dark earth tones, the walls paneled in something that at least looked like wood, the furniture-- though entirely too small, of course-- were mostly things that might look at home in a dragon's home. Even the lights, flicking on automatically to a warm glow at their entrance, thought not at all magical, were certainly possible, if a homeowner were well-off enough or enough of a mage to attune the spell to his or her presence. He sighed with relief, and the doors slid shut behind him, cutting off even the scents of the outside. Here, it just smelled like Deborah and her father, and that was all right with Purpura.

"Come on, I'll show you around," Deborah suggested, beckoning him through the first room. He padded willingly after her, looking around, taking in what he could. His mind still felt uncomfortably full.

"That was the sitting room," Deborah was saying lightly; she was still using Avengaean, with that odd little accent she had, rather than lapsing back into her own language. It was a nice touch. "Daddy has his meetings and things in there, if they're not horribly private. Most of his associates don't mind me hanging around, anyway, though they might protest to you, until they get to know you."

"Aww, just don't look trustworthy enough, huh?" he snickered. Not that he really cared to listen in on politics and business. It seemed kind of boring. He just hoped he could steer his bond's career thoughts-- what little ambition she had was currently focused towards politics-- to something more interesting, like anthropology or sociology.

"Of course not," she countered sweetly, "you look like a little demon in a dragon's fur."

"Careful, or I'll eat you," was his response. She just laughed and continued.

"The dining room and kitchen are through there-- you're not hungry, are you? Of course not, I'd know, wouldn't I?"

"Probably," he grinned.

"Well, I'll show you around there when you are." Her actual destination was her room, Purpura could tell, but she was giving him this "tour" mostly out of a sense of obligation. "Down this hall--"

"Ya know," he interrupted, forestalling further "tour" comment, "we could just wait on this."

"You don't mind?" she asked, giving him a faintly pleading look. He tried not to laugh.

"'Course not! I'm probably more tired and ready to just flop somewhere than you are."

"Suppose so," she agreed, moving down another hall. "All this is new to you, isn't it?"

"Yup. But it's not too bad. It's actually kind of neat."

"Liar," she accused, smiling. "You're poor head is reeling, don't try to deny it."

"All right," he said, a little embarrassed that he was so obvious about feeling out of place and overwhelmed. She touched a button on the wall and a panel slid open, revealing-- judging from the pink bedspread on the huge bed and the increased feelings of "home" from Deborah-- his bond's bedroom. It was a strange mix of ultra-girly and ultra-tomboy that somehow didn't manage to clash. Too badly. She drifted in and collapsed onto the bed with a contented sigh. Since the bed was big enough, with room to spare, Purpura sprawled out beside her, and she rested a hand on his folded wing.

"You'll get used to things," she promised. "And if you don't, well, it's hardly difficult to visit Avengaea."

"I'll get used to it," he assured her quickly. He wasn't about to admit defeat already! She chuckled, catching the thought, but didn't comment.

"You can stay in here with me until we get another room made up for you," she said instead. "Though we might have to move somewhere else, before too long."

"Whyzzat?" he asked, sniffing curiously at her pillows.

"Because I managed to bring home one of the biggest kinds of dragons there are, silly," she said as if it were obvious. "Unless you stop growing until you get a human form, or you're unusually gifted and you start shape-shifting early, you won't fit through doors for very long."

He blinked at her. "Oh. Suppose that's true. Do they have dragon-sized places around here?"

"Yes, but they're not quite as, ah, sophisticated as you're used to. Most dragons around here don't have much need for furniture."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. But we'll think of something, don't worry." Smiling, she ruffled the fur of his neck. "We'll make you a nice, comfy home somehow or another, even if we have to commission the furniture specially. We probably would, anyway."

"Aw, I'll probably be human-formed most of the time, anyway," he protested, "I want to be able to go wherever you do!"

Pillowing her head on an arm, she looked over at him and smiled again. "I'm sure we can manage that, no matter what you look like."

"Good," he huffed lightly. She seemed like she got up to interesting things, with all the things and people she knew, and he wanted in on all of it!

Her embarrassed, laughing dismay at that thought actually did make him laugh. He didn't know what could embarrass her so, but he figured he'd find out eventually. They had plenty of time, after all: he'd only just got here!