She asks why they aren’t rebuilding the wall – something Dragomir is not sure of. Rolling his large shoulders in a shrug, he frowns ever so slightly in the motion and turns his eyes to the dilapidated structure ringing their home, a single ear falling back in his lack of knowing. ”I do not know.” He could of course throw in his own assumptions, but that was only his opinion on the matter – as he could see it, it would be about as much work as it had taken to initially build the thing as it would be to repair it, and perhaps his Queen had seen little use in wasting time. But he does not claim to know Kahlua’s heart or thoughts, and so he only replies with what he knows for sure.

Nothing.

Thankfully, his lack of a proper answer is distracted by the trembling leaf that is Resplendence, and he watches Cheveyo move to comfort her with concern writ across his features. The pale mare is soft in her heart, he decides, having caught her many times crying or distraught over things, and while many might consider it a flaw, he finds that it is perhaps why she is such a proficient healer. Her deep sense of compassion for those around her deepens her will to heal and provide aid, and so rather than rebuke her emotional display he allows her to lean on his more solid emotional foundations.

Not much more resolute, to be sure – he’s had his fair share of freak outs and emotional idiocy, but it was easier to deal with someone else than himself to be sure.

The mare reaches out to him, an odd sensation for one so reserved within himself, and for a split second he fights his desire to back away, pushing it aside with the resolve to step forward and into the embrace. The way she trembles reminds him of a time when he had been young and afraid during the dark hours of the night as a storm ravaged the island, and his mother had soothed him simply by gathering him to her side until his shivering eased into the peace of sleep. He could do that, for Resplendence – surely he could.

He takes in her words in calm silence as he leans nearer her, hoping to wrap his muscled neck over her own to ease the shuddering that claims her. That it is only a nightmare makes the stallion want to cluck at her for being childish, but her shame and the hiccups that ravage her normally sweet and pristine voice leave him stoic against a woman’s foolishness.

”Its alright,” he says, observing the dragon’s descent to her spine from the corner of his eyes, the immediate concern that something horrible had befallen her easing with the knowledge that it was only a dream – but what a terrible dream it must have been to leave her so shaken, ”you are safe.” Lifting his face to send it sweeping downward to brush at her cheeks and the tears staining them should she let him, he hopes to ease her worries that she has ruined everything with her tears. ”Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, his deep voice warm with concern as he glances back to Cheveyo to assure her she is still in his thoughts, as well – but that he must tend to his friend, as well.