Images of my father float through my mind. His passion for life, his dedication to his family, his herd, his duty. The admiring glances that used to be given to him, the training and guidance he used to provide, the sheer ownership of his position as General that he embraced. It was why I had wanted to be a warrior, why, even as a weanling I had attended his training days and put myself through his exercises. I craved his passion, his determination, his comfort in the knowledge of where he belonged.

Where did a broken soul like me belong?

Perhaps this was why I liked him, why I felt drawn to him. It was not necessarily him I liked, but the passion and excitement he displayed for his rank. He knew his duties, and while he did not hold the confidence in himself consistently, when he did truly embrace his work, he was passionate about them. I could not help the smile that danced across my lips, the admiration behind my amusement, the polite curiosity that kept me listening.

He mentions many things, a lot of them I barely see the use for even as he insists they are useful, some things I concede make sense. I was a creature who lived in the skies, if I could live on the wind and rain alone I would. The only use the ground held for me was a source of food and water - such things as shelves and ropes and nets and jewellery were simply, unnecessary.

But maybe not to everyone.

It was understandable, I suppose, that one who resided in a herd, who decidedly stayed where they were, could find use in such things. And while jewellery didn't appeal to me, it might appeal to some - some who were willing to trade services in exchange for it. I never truly appreciated a crafter's job, but I was beginning to see just how useful they could be. I thought of the wall that circumvented my own home land, with its draconic gate and metal holdings. I remembered flying over the wall that rimmed the Edge's land, -and again, my gaze flicked towards the outcropping of land that held the home of this Dragomir.

I sighed quietly, before returning my gaze to Dragomir as he laughed away the end of his explanation. My smile had not faded, my genuine interest still shining as my shimmering blue pools held his own. "Many things." I repeat, the laughter in my voice akin with his. I was glad he had not rejected my interest, but instead, shown me just how interesting it could be. This was the first social interaction I had had in a long time that I could probably call normal, at least since you left me.

"I've seen mares' manes done in strange braids before.. I think their companions might have helped them. A gryphon or a dragon perhaps, with dextrous claws, could help to create similar ties in your ropes." The thought came to be unrestrained, unfiltered, and spilled out all over my tongue with such speed that my mind barely had a chance to register its existence. The surprise is even written upon my face, surprise at my own idea, at my own attempt of holding some kind of knowledge in the crafting realm. My gaze becomes questioning, almost hopeful, as it considers the painted steed once more.

@[Dragomir] sorry for the wait!!