He spreads his hands in a wide, encompassing gesture.

"Consider this an invitation," he says, and the words are barely out of his mouth before Rahab's weight is gone from his shoulders in a rush of wing beats. Because this apparently is a thing that's happening, this right here, and even dragons don't want to get caught in the crossfire between two old, powerful things.

"All your old god talk is boring me. If I wanted to hear flowery prose about abominations with big egos, I'd have picked up a little Lovecraft. Let's see your teeth, crawling horror."