Saira settled on a mostly translucent neck-sail with a faint red hue, glittering with tiny-golden marks like sunlight was flowing through them. She just knew it was stunning but it was rather regretful that there were no spaces that would allow her to see her own, beautiful form. At least she was able to see her own tail as she cycled through various shapes in an attempt to find one that would look nice. Perhaps it should start at the base of her tail? Or maybe it should be one long, continuous fin connected to her dorsal sail before dismissing it. The fish she'd seen didn't have linked fins and she expected that a torn fin would feel as painful as a torn wing and a dragoness only does that once in her life before she learns to avoid ever putting herself in a situation to repeat it.
She wanted to continue ignoring the rude sea-dragon - 'I don't understand' certainly wasn't an apology after all.
But her chest swelled with pride for her own heritage and identity all the same, the dragonness proudly lifting her head - it wasn't like she had something to be ashamed of after all.
"I am Saira Celestine, daughter of the great Empress Ezhil Celestine and the consort Jamal whose names are sung in in epics and spoken over feasts," the tigeress bragged, her tail swishing in a pleased manner. She briefly wished she was above water so she could've flashed her wings properly, clearly showing the stripes adorning her flanks and the gilded tips of her wings but there was no way to do that underwater and remain dignified.
It was only as she considered this aspect of showing off that she was then reminded of her previous train of thought - that perhaps because of the vast expanse of the ocean, sea-dragons were unsocialized. Perhaps even unfamiliar with the ability change forms? She pondered over this a bit before releasing another series of annoyed bubbles from her nose - she supposes that just this once, she could cut a rude creature some slack. It was possible that this Delta simply never knew that dragons could shape-change, twisting around to glance over her shoulder to off-handedly add.
"I am a tiger," she tells him firmly. "But I inherited my mother's most noble winged-form. Clearly different from what you are used to I presume - what are sea-dragons like then, if my form is so repulsive to you?"