Looking to Syrena after her morose response, the stallion’s soft smile becomes ever so subtly a frown. He certainly was less bothered by the disbandment of the herd than some, and only truly bothered at all by the notion that some mad God was running amok, and that the parting of the Earth God to tend to that madness had made so many of his friends and loved ones sad. While he had only just met the water nymph, he definitely considered her to be a good person, albeit a little awkward, and sometimes rude.

"Well enough," he says with a smile, when she asks how he is, "Ranjiri, Letha, and I have gone to the Edge, kept by my friend Alysanne, and a man they call Tembovu, the Elephant."

He sees many of his new herd mates here, so many faces he knew only from glimpses, at meetings, or in passing within the misty wood, or whom he’d seen not at all before now, and didn’t recognize as the Moon’s people. Unlike and like Syrena, he did not truly follow the Moon’s ways, and most certainly felt more attuned to the teachings and powers of the Earth; he, however, had accepted long ago that a God was not contained within a mortal realm. You could worship from anywhere, and they would hear you. His family had done so for their distant and likely dead God, after all, and it was unlike him to take on very many behaviors (aside from his love for Ranjiri, anyway) that were not similar to theirs.

The crafter also respected the Moon; her people were prosperous, the herd much larger than he remembered it being when he’d left some years prior. Any Goddess who could do well by her people was fine by him, and, besides, it had been She who had first shown him how much he had been missing before he had begun making.

The task of the yeti, however, takes over, and soon the stallion is pondering what to make, while occasionally looking up to see the splendid creations of the others. His heart soars to see so much making happening around him, and he is also greatly inspired by the various, creative creations made by those who have gathered. Reaching into his pouches and driving his hoof into the ground to make a rut, he drops some stones with shiny, silver metal in them into the divot, and covers it, finding his magic, and asking it to bring to life the beautiful circlet in his mind.

Growing up from the earth like a weird plant after he shifts his hoof away, the silver circlet is large, suitable for a Yeti head, with appropriate shape to accommodate the beast’s horns. While the band is simple, and circular, moving into a downward point at the center point of its front, it is the face itself that is spectacular, depicting a borders-only range of mountains overlooked by a crescent moon, so that the fur of the yeti would peek through, like snow; the mountain’s feet are hidden by shining, fully metallic evergreen forests, which reach all the way to the crown’s edge. Simple, but intricate, Dragomir proudly walks with the completed object tenderly clasped in his mouth towards the Yeti.

"Perhaps this will suit you?" he questioningly says, humbly placing the crown at the beast’s feet, among the other offered creations, before returning to Syrena’s side.

[ Dragomir would like a dragon! No prior refusals. ]

Dragomir