What shall we do today, Illy? The orangemoon morning painted the sand in colorful shades of dawnlight, and the pair drifted high above it on Cera's large wings, watching the land come alive with sleepy shuffling and hard-blinked eyes. Cera had awoken when twilight was turning to dawn, and he and Ilaria had slipped away from a still-slumbering Ranjiri for their morning flight. Ilaria was a spot of warmth and familiarity against his shoulders, her tail flicking idly across the span of his left shoulder. Hmmmm, Ilaria hummed into his head, clearly at a bit of a loss as well. We should find somebody new. Times are changing Cera, you must start your climb if you are to be known. Cera rolled his eyes fondly, and said nothing. Ilaria thought he should pursue greater heights, if not through fame then through title somehow. Cera had never been a greedy soul, happy in his niche supplying his family with the things they needed. He had happily declined when offered the diplomatic position that had gone briefly to Bucephalus, and for good reason. He had still been shadowed by Midas and his memory, but...as Ilaria had said, times were changing.

But was he ready to change with them?

Nevertheless Ilaria had a point. He could still always find somebody, interject himself into their morning, perhaps garner some new friends. Even if he did not hold the same sort of goal that Ilaria had for him, he could stand to know more people in this world. 

They were surprisingly easy to find, if only because there was a golden child flitting about, like a sundrop attracting his eye and alighting beside a clay-colored beauty. She remind him of the reddened shores where he scratched his blueprints, and he could not help his interest in the odd little pair. It was easy to tilt his large wings and spiral down, ivory hooves touching down into the sand as soft as the feathers upon his wings. Striding towards the two he caught wind of their words, face alighting with joy at the term wing-sister. It was something he had always enjoyed, but not one often used in the Throat. 

What was even more interesting, however, was the rope being clumsily but beautifully crafted between Nasreen's hooves. Cera could not help his instinctive excitement and went bounding up towards her, careful not to kick sand onto her creation, staring down at it with a starving gaze that took in the machinations of it all. "It's amazing! Are you a crafter? This could be so useful, how did you figure it out? Could you possibly teach me?" His words babbled a little too fast, emerald eyes bright as they flicked up towards Nasreen. Ilaria thwapped him on the neck with one little paw. Stop being rude and introduce yourself, they're going to think you're crazy.

Cera flushed appropriately and bowed before the pair of them, tucking one knee in and flashing the outsides of his wings to them in deference. "My apologies. My name is Cera, I'm head Forger here. I get a little excitable around such things," he excused with a soft laugh, warm smile directed at both of them. "May I ask your names?" It was only a fair exchange, after all.