She is abrupt, and Tyradon is momentarily taken aback. He would have thought she would accept all help to search for Paladin, but it seems not. "Very well," he says gruffly, rather hurt at the notion that she doesn't trust him to help her search. Admittedly if he found Paladin he would be hard pressed not to have Cynder set him on fire, but he would do his level best - for her, his dam, the reason why he's here. Treat them well, she says, and he dips his head in acknowledgement, quashing down the bubbling hatred at the notion - he wants to point out that they aren't his only sisters, that his father sired good-quality, equine fillies with strong equine mares, but keeps that to himself. He doesn't want to further damage their already fragile relationship. "I would not harm my own flesh and blood, Mother," he says, but knows the words contain a hint of a lie - if he sired a foal that was of the wrong species, he would end it.

For its own sake - nobody deserved to be born a mongrel.

His eyes flash at her next words, as she calls him a fool, and his ears lace into his mane with a small hiss of disgust. "As my mother, I would have hoped you would respect my opinions, even if you do not share them - the same as I respect your choice of who you share your bed with, even though I do not agree with it." He speaks sharply, his patience wearing thin. She made him, and perhaps if she had made more of an effort to take him from his father, she could have raised him to be her own vision of perfection - as it was, he had grown up with Terrador's indoctrination, his fragile young mind brainwashed to believe that everything he was taught was right, because he knew no different.

His massive skull hangs, misery etched in the taut muscles of his neck as she reveals her disappointment - oh, he's always known it, but to hear it spoken in such certain terms wounds him to his core. He keps his face stoic, strong lines like stone to not betray any emotion. "I disappoint everyone," he murmurs, looking away from her and to his dragon nestled in the depths of the caves. He hadn't been able to protect her when the warlock regressed her, the same as he hadn't been able to protect his herd when they were invaded, hadn't been able to protect his uncle when he was lost during their escape from Isilme. He's failed so many people, and Soleil is just the latest in a long line, but her disappointment hurts more than most because he loves her, and always has. "If it pleases you, I will leave you be - you will never have to see me again." His voice is bitter, the words stinging his lips as he leaves them - of course he doesn't want to lose her, but for once he is trying to be selfless, to put another before himself. Perhaps it's for the best if he leaves her alone, stays away from her and allows her to forget she ever spawned such a disappointment.