Hermia gestured vigorously to her new dragon friend. "Then, once we make it to the throne room, Melody knocks the wizard dead with her poison breath!"
The rest of Hermia's party nodded, impressed.
Melody rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I can't do that."
"Of course you can. He's evil. He needs to die."
"Oh yes, of course he is, of course he does. But I mean I literally can't kill him with my breath."
"What do you mean you can't? All green dragons breathe poison."
Melody pinched the bridge of her snout and sighed. "And did you ever wonder what kind of poison we breathe?"
"...Really nasty toxic poison? My uncle got mercury poisoning from fighting Raddareth the Great, and he was wearing a gas mask and everything."
"Yessss, Raddareth breathed mercury vapours. My great-aunt breathes cyanide. But I can't breathe either of those things. It's dragon-specific."
"So you... Can't kill a charging army with one noxious breath?"
"But why do you put wolfsbane in your salads, if not to build up your, y'know," Hermia wiggled her fingers "Poison Reservoir?"
Melody grimaced. "Where do humans get these ideas? My poison doesn't just accumulate in some neat vat. It's all throughout me, in my blood and in my bones."
"Then why?? Wolfsbane??? It makes you sick????"
"I eat wolfsbane because it is tasty, little one. We're all poison-immune, regardless of personal affinity. Otherwise a simple bite or scratch from a family member would prove fatal."
Hermia's enthusiasm faded a little. "So, no breath weapon?"
As a way of explanation, Melody blew a little smoke towards the druid. Hermia's eyes widened and she froze in place for a moment. Then her nose twitched. She sniffed the air. A broad grin split across her face and her eyes squinched shut as she giggled.
"What the fuck? You're a weed dragon??"