He hardly notices Tyrath's transformation from dragon back into colt, so eager is he to impart his wisdom. Volterra will never claim to be the most intelligent of creatures; he is no font of knowledge, no bastion of wit and guile. But dragons, he knows. Ask him about dragons, and he'll sure as hell be able to answer, and answer with passion. Tyrath's bombardment of questions does not irritate him, as it might another horse. No, he revels in it, bathes in it. Keep them coming, kiddo. "There are many different colours, ranked in a tiered system. Dragons have a hierarchy, you see, based upon the colour of their scales, and this colour directly correlates to their size. The smallest and weakest are the blacks and the whites - they are looked down upon in dragon society, and considered vastly inferior." Vadir gives a snort of agreement. Why, it would offend her even to look upon a white or a black, and she stifles a shudder at the very notion. Vérzés simply huffs - he does not pay a great deal of attention to colour hierarchy, and shirks it when he can. The fact he is not royal in scale does not make him believe he is any less royal in blood, or any weaker than his metallic brethren. This, indeed, is the main bone of contention between himself and his golden sister, who demands his utmost submission - submission he is unwilling to provide to her.

"In the next tier up, you will find the vast majority of dragons, the most common colours. The reds, the blues, the greens...I have little doubt there are others, too, but they're the only ones I have seen with my own eyes." He glances across to his own red, who swells proudly. "Finally, you have the royals. Bronze, silver...and gold." Vadir croons and flares her massive wings, releasing a blast of flame for good measure. "Royals are the largest of all dragons, and golds are the biggest of all. Vadir is a golden queen; because, to answer your next question, in dragon society females are considered superior to males." At this, he allows a little contempt to creep into his voice. His one quarrel with dragons is that they consider females to be superior, which he quite disagrees with. Vadir gives an outraged gargle and swings her tail dangerously, her feral eyes gleaming.

"Now, I was always under the impression that golds could only be female - because as females are considered superior, the largest size and most revered scale colour was exclusive to them. However, not long ago I stumbled upon a mare who had bonded to a golden male, so it appears that all we thought we knew about dragons is, in fact, wrong." The behemoth's features crease into a frown. This knowledge had perturbed him greatly, shaking everything he thought he knew about the great scaled ones. "I am sure this male will not grow to a size equal to female golds, but it is still an interesting development. Perhaps, as time passes, dragons have reconsidered their gender hierarchy, and have decided that equality is better than female superiority. It would be interesting to see if golden males exist in the wild, or if it is perhaps their bonds with us that have made our companions reconsider their biology and change something so intrinsic to them." He muses over this for a moment, his head filled with Vadir's opinions on the subject. Needless to say, she is confident that no male will ever rival her, although the existence of golden males does at least allow her to consider one day mating with one - the only way she will ever find a suitor to almost match her.

"The red's name is Vérzés. In the language I speak - which I will teach you - his name means bleeding. Alas, I thought it apt when I was a boy not much older than you are now, although now I wonder if I couldn't have thought of something better." His voice is tinged with amusement, but Vérzés isn't concerned; he likes his name, the only one he has ever known. "I met him when, as I say, I was a colt not much older than yourself. It is quite by chance that I obtained his egg - I was wandering in the forest one day when I stumbled upon a dying wild dragon. She had been attacked by another wild dragon, and most of her eggs were shattered. Wild dragons are a sight to behold, Tyrath, countless times larger than you or I, and I felt it my duty to stand with her as she died to ensure no creature attempted to feast on her whilst she was weak. A dragon deserves a more dignified death than that." He has never told this to anybody before - the memory tastes good on his tongue. It is the one time he has really shown empathy, and it worked. "As the life left her, she unfolded her wings and presented me with her one remaining egg." Of course, it could just have been a natural movement from her death throes, but the leviathan likes to think it was because she saw strength and genuine love for dragonkind in him; an ideal suitor for her last remaining egg.

"The gold is called Vadir, which has no meaning to my knowledge, although I suspect I may have plucked it from the tales I was told as a foal. I found her egg shortly after my second birthday. She, like Vérzés, is the child of a wild dragon, this time a great gold. Oh, I have never seen anything as large as this wild queen! But she was being hounded by a pack of starving wolves who wanted her eggs, and even her fire and sheer size couldn't deter them - she was weakened by the harsh winter, and they were relentless in their hunger. I aided her, and between us we managed to slay and chase the wolf pack, although she flew away with what she could gather of her eggs. She left some behind, though, including Vadir's." He remembers his greed, his elation, at finding the egg - he remembers Nymeria, and their argument. Nothing could taint the memory of that day, though; the giant falls silent, to see if his son has further questions. He rather hopes so - he is enjoying this.