Massive skull jerks into a sharp nod. "Yes, I am," he says. Her next words cause the beast's silver eyes to flash and Cynder lifts onto her hindlegs, a plume of smoke rising dangerously from her nostrils. "We all make mistakes. Hers was letting her heart rule her head - a momentary lapse, a momentary weakness. Alas, that weakness resulted in you and your horned siblings." His voice is sharper than intended, all jovialty or forced niceness forgotten; his quest is at the back of his mind, momentarily shoved aside in favour of giving into the simmering hatred that threatens to engulf him. How can a man who has spent his entire life loathing the horned ones suddenly be expected to dance around a campfire with them? It will take time.

She responds to his words with a blunt rejection, and the hellhound's ears flatten momentarily into his mane. The moment I try to be nice to the dumb horned bitch... Cynder reaches out a forepaw to plait Tyradon's mane, humming gently in her throat in a manner she knows calms him. "She is clutch-mate, yes? Even when clutch-mates born with black scales or white, still love them." Her draconic logic threatens to bring a smile to his face and he feels his temper calm slightly as she continues to braid his mane. I'm not apologising to her, he responds stubbornly. He can hear Cynder's rumbling chuckle in the depths of his mind as she clambers up his neck to sit between his ears. "You never apologise," is her blunt, but very true, response.

He returns his gaze to his sister - that venomous word - and wrestles his expression into one of neutrality. His face is more of a grimace, but he hopes it looks less forced than it actually is. "I was raised by my father - he took me from my mother at an early age, to mould me into his perfect mini-me. He trained me to hate none-equines, because at the time he was the king of a supremely racist all-equine herd, and I dutifully obliged. I met my dragon when I was a month old, a gift from Nieque himself - made a couple of friends, made a couple of enemies, the usual." That's to put it mildly, of course. He leaves the story there, not wanting to mention how everything had changed when he met Paladin, Ktulu's father; how he actually liked the man, much to his disgust. "You?"