Often these days he felt… lacking? He hadn’t yet managed to connect to the members of the Worlds Edge, he didn’t know their struggles or their joys, what made the herd tick along. In the Throat it felt more like a family setting overseen by the iron will of the Wildfire, but Sacre struggled still to put his hoof on what made the Edge the Edge. Perhaps part of him, unknown to his conscience, was still uncomfortable living in a herd that had once held him captive… Yet, they hadn’t had they? He had been prisoner in the Worlds Edge yes, but those horses were entirely different, the situation was different and those who lived in the land of the moon were not those who had imprisoned him. Even more so, he had only been a Nurse for a season, only lived there for a season and already found familiar friends. His uncertainty about his new herd mates coloured his feelings as he waited for Anzanie’s answer, anxious that maybe in one word he might upset her, like he had Raeden on his first day as a member of the Worlds Edge. Since then, Sacre had almost been tip-toeing around his herd mates as if one wrong word would shatter the new life he was trying to build for himself.

The relief he felt fuelled his boyish smile when Anzanie proclaimed her love for their herd and its members, the beautiful ocean and the wish to have a family. Sacre could relate to the need for family, he had lost members of his own and was still searching for Roux, he hadn’t seen Nao or Raeru, and only recently learned of his half-brother Mesec. The last member of his family he had seen was the back of his father. Yet, there were those within Helovia he considered family even if they were not bound by blood and, now looking at Anzanie, he considered the paint family by just being apart of the same herd—kindred.

“The Worlds Edge is your family if nothing else, Anzanie” he replied softly, perhaps her despondence with Helovia lay in her lack of connection to it, or maybe it was something else entirely. Yet, Sacre hoped that perhaps she might see the Worlds Edge in a way that they were more than just members of the same herd. The fox-boy didn’t say anymore than that, however, as the topic had already changed back to that of his healing prowess, or lack of it, and he quickly turned his head away, embarrassed. Sacre? Intelligent? There were firsts for everything and that was the first time any had referred to him as such. The smile bubbled on his face as he warmed with the thrill of her compliment, thinking she was just being kind, but enjoying it nevertheless.

“You’re far too nice to me” he laughed in the end.

Though he couldn’t help but respond to her enthusiasm about crafting, he had enjoyed it for the time he had served in the role, if he had only done one thing he had still felt the adrenaline rush when using magic to create. “I served the Dragons Throat” he responded to her excitement “the crafting is done with metal” a more practical material than glass, but not nearly as pretty in Sacre's opinion. Anzanie, however, didn't appear to be done embarrassing him for the evening as his eyes grew wider whilst he stared back at her, noticing for the first time how pale the Glazier's own eyes were.

"I'm not going to win am I?" he questioned humorously, gaining a little of his composure back and snorting a laugh at her "let's agree to be equals, hm?" he offered with a glint in his gaze.

After that he listened to her description of crafting with glass and he nodded, feeling almost regretful that he gave up the profession. There was something unique, he felt, about the emotion one garnered from creating and making, something quite personal "ahhh" the happy nostalgia filled his voice "it must be a nice feeling to create something so delicate and strong at the same time" he softly murmured.