It wasn’t his name that was called from the wall but those of his leaders, though it still causes his ears to prick forward and his body to move towards the sound of a familiar voice using such formal tones. It doesn’t sit well with him, the way those words sounded in the air, as if they were the song of departure, and that it is the voice of his fellow Glazier sits restlessly within him as he walks towards the sound.

As usual, Kahlua has beaten him here, effervescent as usual as he breaks through the tree line to find not only Aaron but another mare he vaguely remembers from his first seasons here standing in the company of the Queen. He smiles, but only just so, the edges of the expression tinged with the worry he feels inside that all the glasswork is about to placed onto his shoulders. He wants to be brave and kind for his family here, even when he fears what is coming to pass.

Its not that he had known Aaron very well, this was true, but there was something about the painted stag that left him feeling as if he had met him years before arriving to Helovia. An ear flicks towards the Sunshower’s almost foolish question – a staggering thing to notice, really, as even inept Dragomir can tell that this is not simply the returning of one of their numbers to the Edge. No one wore such serious faces when coming home.

He stops a respectable distance from Kahlua and looks at his brother in the arts, unaware that they share more than just a passion for beautiful and useful things, but fully knowledgeable in the fact that this might be the last time he ever sees Aaron or his unknown lady friend again.

”They’re leaving, Kahlua,” he answers for her, looking over at his soft hearted Queen with a soft expression that mourns for the mind she never had and the friendships cut short by the departure of the pair before him, ”he’s come to say goodbye.” Its not said in such a way that states he knew it prior to seeing the solemn faces before him, but rather to ease the passage of words for those gathered to say farewell and also to put aside Kahlua’s wrong assumptions that this was a homecoming.

He’d worn that same face when he’d told his parents he was going out on his own, to find the life that lie hidden in the folds on the world outside their comfort and love. Perhaps Aaron and Kimber (though he still did not know her name) had found a haven to spend their remaining hours in, or perhaps he had been captured by the rapturous song of adventure as so many had been in the past. Dragomir did not know.

All he knew for certain was that change comes, endlessly – no one could avoid the pull of its gravity.

They come, his brothers and sisters of the mist, to wish the Glazier sweet farewell. He’s not the sort to really get too involved with the emotional affairs of others, and so after pressing the idea that this was a meeting of goodbyes rather than welcome into the mind of the Queen he slipped into nonchalant silence, occasionally flicking an ear towards the rise of words or nodding in greeting to those who arrived.

He didn’t know Aaron, or his white haired mistress, and so he had little to add to the tearful words and heartfelt thanks that spread out towards the painted glass maker and his lady friend; he did as he thought his father would expect him to do in such a situation, as this man, while unknown to him but for his name and trade, was his brother in such a way that they both knew the blessing of the Moon’s magic – what he did not know, and perhaps never would, was that Aaron was closer to him than any other in the Edge, for his blood dripped the same shade as his own, descended from the same pool which Dragomir had been born of.

And so it comes as quite a shock to the quiet male that the attentions of the painted stallion turn to him as all the others close their farewells and he and his woman leave their own parting words to each, the young man lifting his ears and eyes to meet that of his departing fellow and smiling softly at the address.

It is quite obvious that they are strangers. He does not hold it against the painted stallion; Dragomir is not the sort to go out of his way to meet those he lives with, rather the type of man to ride the drifting wake of life and arrive upon whatever shore it deposited him on. Still, he can sense the responsibility being laid across his shoulders, and it seemingly presses him down into the loam of the forest. Swallowing his fears and discomforts with a slight quiver of his pale blue gaze, his smile does not falter and his deep voice does not break beneath the trembling of his small, humble soul. ”I will do well by them,” he says, hoping to lay to rest any worries that the stallion might have that Dragomir would be a failure in maintaining the happiness of the family he was leaving behind in search of his own story, his own ending, ”I wish you both luck in your search for happiness together.”

He does not state that he is here for either of them should they ever need something tooled from glass, or whatever other skills he might have acquired by then, for the others have all said as much in their farewells. He says only what he feels he needs to say to conclude the business of the greenhouse and all other projects that may fall after it, a few kind words imparted to a stranger and his mate who had, for a long while now, lived alongside him in the misty forest of the Edge.

He would never get to know him, just as he had not then.

Perhaps… it had always been meant to be that way.

[ OOC: Slow Bunnie is slow. :| ]
@[Kaj]