The mare seems calm, surprisingly, considering a burning man walks toward her with purpose.  Her eyes hold a bright curiosity yet no fear.  That he had not frightened her was a good thing, for it is hard to hold conversation with those stricken silent by fright.  With his question, the shock still lighting his voice into an ugly tone the mare's face lights up with happiness.  It is a strange feeling, with Cathun standing aghast at the thought of eating fish, to have the mare smile happily in response.

The expression sets his heart at ease, for after months without much direction interaction with others, the ability to hold a conversation apparently no longer existed in his skillset.  The calm, steady presence of this mare is comforting, at least, with the whirlwind of experiences he had already been faced with since his return.  Like an anchor in the see she stood, poised and gentle, looking at him with no fear or disgust.  Something he likely did not deserve.

She does.  His eyes drift toward the waves, seeing a small white figure flickering between them.  A dragon, he recognizes immediately, and smiles in spite of himself.  That would explain the fish, and it also pointed out just how long he had been away from Helovia.  To assume an equine would eat fish before thinking of their bonded being some sort of carnivore was absurd.  The reptile rushes to the shore, plucking a fish in her strong jaws and plods over to him, eyes wide with a gentle expression.

The fish is dropped at near him and slowly edged closer to his figure.  An offering, perhaps, but Cathun is not quite sure what to do with such a thing.  The idea of eating a fish fills him with disgust, but even in his unrefined skill as a conversationalist, he knows to rebuke the extension of friendship is rude.  Deliberate and calm, he lifts a flaming hoof from the sand, resting it easily on the fish while it sizzles beneath.

The stallion nods in response to the statement, feeling more comfortable as his companions except his odd presence kindly.  After a few moments he carefully turns the fish over, settling his hoof on the other side to cook the meat.  "A pleasure to meet you two as well, Najya and Amal," he says evenly but honestly.  Time had left him disoriented in a place he once called home.  All for nothing.

The straightforward question catches him quite offguard, though it should not.  Much like a giant pink elephant standing between them, the fact he appeared composed of flames did not escape her notice.  He removes his hoof from the fish and looks down at the small reptile before sliding it easily in her direction.  "No," he says.  "Physical pain has never been my burden to bare."  The voice is surprisingly dark despite his attempt to quash whatever worries she had for his physical safety.  The bitter taste of self-hatred finding its way on his tongue, thinking back to all the destruction and death that had been his fault.

"You needn't worry."

It's tacked on toward the end of a grim silence, like an afterthought.

""