Voodoo, says the stranger after a long and strange silence, continuing to introduce his companion who wags her tail sweetly in response to the notice given her. His own head nods in time with each name, trying to be good company with a sense for timing and wit.

Perhaps wit was asking too much of reclusive Dragomir; that he knew he was supposed to nod at all is quite impressive. He usually gets so caught up in his own panicked thoughts while dealing with others that he forgets to show the usual signs that he is still listening, increasing his sense of panic, looping the tail end of the problem right back into the mouth. People, to say the least, were not his specialty.

This other stallion, judging from his revelation of having two homes and belonging to neither, was paddling down a similar stream he was. It wasn’t to say that Dragomir did not love the Edge and the friends he had found within, but he knows he was not made from the same cloth as the rest of them; he’s already done things too dark to mention to a one of them, things that surely would make them shun him from their numbers or at least their hearts.

They were good people, his herd. He did not see them leaving any to die on their own, no matter how horrid their crimes. And he hadn’t killed anyone, at least he didn’t think so…

"I’ve heard nothing good about the Basin and no ill of the Throat, if that helps you to more firmly allocate yourself for the duration of this conversation, at least," he says a bit late to really be polite, deep voice friendly in the face of his natural aversion to horned and winged things and perhaps a bit rushed in his hurry to get it out before the other man assumed he was going to be ignored.

His next words are a question, and the painted stallion lights up at the mention and turns back to the wall of symbols, looking at them with a wide expression that tells all one needs to know about how much he loves a good mental challenge, especially ones that hinted of magical origins. "I think…they’re silent words," he states, slowly, still staring at the section that he had been trying to convince to read its tale aloud to him in whatever fashion it would do so, "but I don’t really know. They haven't done anything for as long as I've stood here."


@[Voodoo]