His girls dance behind him, and the stallion happy to see Ranjiri let loose the veil of sadness that had shrouded her, ever since arrived, and even before then. While he too was mourning, his loss was only natural; the parent always came before the child, or so we liked to think, anyway. The gold and black had met the exception to this rule, and while Dragomir had fortuitously returned to tend to the chasm Rhoa’s death had left behind, the rift still yawned, regardless.

As if the loss of her unborn child’s father had not been great enough, fate had given her a crown, to steal it away, along with the land of her birth, and his father’s long term rule. The result was that his darling was quite bereaved, and logically so, and though the crafter was not the strongest or best man in the world, he bravely assumes the role as best as he can, for her sake.

So, he does not blame her for her silence, so much as he regrets it, because it means he will have to do all the talking. Setting his eyes to the horizon, however, he attempts to not let his pulse accelerate too much, when the first strange face approaches.

A golden mare, winged, and very small, greets them with a heavily accented voice. He doesn’t recognize it, or her, and neither does he know the next to arrive, or the one after that. Though the first two are friendly enough, offering greetings, and asking logical questions, the third is much fiercer, and firmly stamps her hooves at the trio, after arriving in a less-than-welcoming fashion.

Dragomir’s head lifts quickly in defense, his leisurely angled ears tilting immediately forward, as Letha bolts beneath him with a bleat of fear. Standing tall over the filly, the stallion snorts protectively at the guard, his pale eyes narrowing in thought. He certainly doesn’t want to fight anyone, but he will, if he has to, in order to protect his family. Understanding, however, the needs of one who has long not had a home, and at last found one, and their often hidden desperation to protect such a precious thing…

He too had not been so different once, before he had learned that a home was not where you slept, but whom you thought of as you dozed away.

Slowly, he nods to the most genial two of the trio of mares, first, looking on the overly defensive one last, with what he hopes is a calm gaze.

Greetings, Yael, and Lyanna, he begins, not having a name to give the third, his smile faltering as his glance meets her steely glare, I am Dragomir, and this is Ranjiri the Goldenshade, and our daughter, Letha.

That she wasn’t actually his didn’t matter right now. He considered her a part of his family, and of his concern, and that was all they need to know.

I once served as a Glazier here, a long time ago, not sure where he is going with that, he drops off suddenly, his deep bass voice falling into brief silence and a contemplative frown, before he continues, err, well. Alysanne told me I was welcome to come back, if I ever needed to. I am both glad and quite saddened that the need has came up.

I’d be happy to explain more, if need be, he states, glancing again at the warily watching Nikita, and hoping his words have done enough to ease her ill temperament, otherwise, we seek a home here, if this is still a land of peace, as it was in the years I lived here.

[ OOC: Whoa look at Dragomir use all those words :o Ali is almost done with her post and it should be up shortly! ]