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I watch as the puffed-up pony seems to give a cue to the dragon, for the little ivory creature begins to fly around my head, giving little hisses and growls. Cute! I ignore it, except for a quick glance to take in what threat it may actually pose. Very little, if any. Probably. I feel sudden doubt at my distant cousin, and shake my head at it, speaking in a low voice of gutturals hisses and slight clicks, wondering if she'll understand my promise in the tongue of reptiles- "I won't harm him, and I swear it on my youngs' life." It's a solemn, binding promise, and one I won't break, no matter how angry I may get at this stallion Lace. Then I return my attention to his low voice. "That is something I must work on." I growl at the inferior horse, yet the threat's gone out of my eyes as the fury ebbs away, fading from my body. I lower myself to the ground, and when Lace the Glazier introduces myself, I look at him with a spark of new interest, ignoring the hunger rumbling in my belly.
"Is that so?" I ask in inquiring tones, yet I do not doubt him, for some bizarre reason. When the horse asks me of my own skills, I let a little smile curl my lips. "I'm working on a prototype for armor that can be mass-produced to the herd. Something simple, but I need some softer material to line it with then hard metals. Oh, my name is Bazilisk, by the way. Tomorrow I'm working on a wall across the northern border to fortify the Throat with my apprentices. Technically, I should be sleeping, but I find it difficult to rest during the night, so I normally hunt." I love speaking of crafting- it is my vanity and it is my weakness.
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