[The dragon may look like a limp noodle, but as soon as it's in Carlisle's hands it coils up and squirms around to rest comfortably against his hands. It's warm to the touch, and feels like solid muscle under the scales. Small, but mighty.]

Hm.

[The helmet tilts a little as Genji looks away, debating how much to say. He could lie and say that it was personal and Carlisle was presumptuous for even asking. But he doesn't like to lie. Yet the truth will be awkward to explain and likely upset someone who's obviously distrustful of machines. Not that Genji is a machine, but he can't deny the mechanical parts that make up who he is now. There's a big difference between a robot and a cyborg.]

I.. I lost my arm. Many, many years ago. I think that's why I was unable to summon the dragon, but it seems tied to me rather than the tattoo. It was a dragon wrapping around my arm with a background of the sky behind it. The Dragon of the North Wind.

[His voice drops as he says that, wistful and bitter as he remembers things he'd rather not. Dragon of the North Wind. He'd not said that outloud for nearly a decade. A little sparrow, unworthy of the title.]