They call, and in The tongue. Draconic beings then, perhaps. But of what intent?

The glow from the dragonling dims, but does not fully subside. She continues beating her wings, holding her position. Opening her maw, she speaks in a voice that, though small, sounds confident. More confident than was the truth, maybe, but confident nonetheless.

"I know ye not," she declares, "Identify thineselves forthwith."

Now that she is still, the dragonling's appearance is more clear. Clear being the most appropriate adjective. She is small, just the size of a grown housecat, maybe a tad larger. Although she seems dragon, she is fairly translucent, and her form is sharp. Her eyes dart about warily, examining the scene.