It was only after he bomed his vibrant 'halloo' that he noticed the man was actually lounging in a nap, not just washing like he had oringinally presumed. "OH!" The hobbit blabbed, about to apologise when the giant (compared to him) launched himself up onto all fours. The tiny stag braced, ready for what he was sure to be a scrap, though the brute spoke only a mery jumble of words in reply. No threats came from the dragon he had woken.
Wiping the wet dribbles of water from his chin by brushing it over his knee, the frizzy-haired halfling soon was standing tall and proud once again, listening intently as the gentleman spoke his name. Gulliver; his name was Gulliver. It was a name that Pippigrin liked the sound of - it was straight forward, rolled off his tongue easily and had a fierce ring to it, the kind his own name did not have.
Fierce names or soppy names, no introduction was complete without a proper greeting, so with a hearty wingbeat or two, all ten hands of the guardian strode forward to greet the man in the hobbit's way. Reaching out with his right hoof and stamping it upon the strangers own front right, plate-sized foot, he finally spoke his own name. "I'm Pip!".

When pondering the second part of gulliver's sentence the hobbit twisted his maw ever-so-slightly, angling his glance downwards at the grass. By near did he mean Helovia? Or was his nest close-by? because no, it was a long way away, but so were all the others herds.
"Well... I do live here in Helovia!" the slightly dimwitted stag answered "But my home is far far from here. It's down south in the mighty island of the Dragon's Throat! I am it's guardian"

Turning tail, the hobbit marched with a chest full of air and pride. "I can show you if you like!? and if you're looking for a place to nest there's plenty room in the Throat. Mr. Volterra Sir, the Sultan, is brave but he's nice! And missus Ampere, the Sultana, is very..." the hobbit trailed off as he began his stroll through the trees, assuming his new friend was following "...very..."
He continued to mumble, wondering what word he might use to describe their sultana and her beautiful ferocity. The hobbit had no real clue how he ought to describe it. "Very sultanary" the little one concluded as he continued through the brush and fern, wings spreading wide as he stumbled upon a glade. From here he could take flight, soar above if he chose, and direct the traveller to his home from above.
So, turning upon his hocks, the half-man beamed towards the grey one and hoped he'd follow. "Come on, i'll show you the Dragon's Throat!"
and with that, the hobbit had flown skyward, his keen eyes watching the forest below in order to guide the stag home.