@throneruled liked for a starter.
She was his mother and sister and soul all at the same time.
Drogon flared out his wings, stepping up to the rocky ledge of the cliff face they had come to rest upon. His brothers were in the sky already, swooping around one another, nipping at tails and legs playfully as if they were still newly hatched. The largest of the three did not take flight to join them. Instead, he was feeling the wind on his wings and around his scales, simply savoring the moment and the salty air that drifted over from the Narrow Sea.
“It looks like a storm might be brewing to the East.” Drogon mused through their bond, casting his golden eyes back to stare at Daenerys. He lowered his great wings, coming once more to rest on all fours and turned to begin to approach her. “We should fly to somewhere with more shelter. Rhaegal detests getting wet.”