The giantess announces that she lives in the Edge now, and the giant inclines his head as he contemplates for the first time the fact that she'd lost her home when the Earth God dissolved it. "Ah, yes, the Falls. I was sorry to hear of its demise." More sorry than he can put into words. The Indomitable had always seen the Falls as his ideal home; he'd planned his life around joining it and one day ruling it, given its status as the herd of his patron God. The Throat had only supposed to be a means to an end, a 'practice run' at herd life before he took the Falls as his own and led it into an era of unparalleled opulence.

It's funny how life can decimate even the best-laid plans. Now the Falls is gone and Volterra has found himself growing more and more fond of the Dragon's Throat. It is unbearably hot in summer, sand gets everywhere, it's filled with people who still may not trust him, and it's the herd of a God who is only the leviathan's second favourite, but despite all that....despite all that, it is home. He now knows, with a conviction that surprises even himself, that he would do anything to protect it. That he cares deeply about it and its residents. That he would be willing to die in its name.

He also realises that Isopia doesn't even know he lives in the Throat - their argument had happened when he was still an outcast. This is the first time they've been able to talk as friends since then, and it's a refreshing change. He's missed the sexual side of their relationship of course, that one mind-blowing time that he holds in a sacred den in the back of his mind, but most of all he's missed this - the easy rapport, the friendship, the closeness. Things may never be the same between them, but this is a start. Ironic that it should happen surrounded by a half-eaten corpse and a gorged newborn dragon.

"I live in the Dragon's Throat, serving as its Gladiator." He shakes his mane, flicks an ear to rid himself of a persistent fly, and scans the Mountain's face for her reaction. "If you decide to leave the Edge...you would be welcome there." He's dipped his toes in the water; now it's time to step right in, to sink or swim. "Aithniel is the Throat's Sultana now." Again those eyes search her face for a reaction to that name; after all, the discovery of him bedding Aithniel was the straw that broke the camel's back. He hopes that the fact he's living beneath the Inquisitor, that they're on speaking terms and have raised a strong son with care and devotion, will earn the Mountain's approval and act as proof that Volterra cares for the offspring he sires. It could, of course, go in the other direction entirely, shatter the fragile peace they've settled on and cast their relationship back into doubt.

He glances over to the dead body, smothers a wry smile. I could be joining you soon, mate. On his back, Vadir barely hides a snigger.