[Ha. This man may not have the blood of dragons coursing in his veins, but he knows how to speak as one. The declaration pleases the dragon immensely.

The question less so. Nehnahlmey huffs, breaks away from Alan's touch with an expression none can miss.]

Same? No, fahdon. You abandoned me to rot in the far reaches of Skyrim--

[A partial truth.]

--in favor of building a hut in the middle of wretched swampland. That a mortal would choose a slave's labor over a dragon's company, it is hurtful.

[A complete truth.]