Suddenly, the dog is growling her displeasure, drawing a hissing snarl from his throat, yellow eyes snapping around to lock on the red and white beast. She doesn’t attack, however, and the other horses are speaking, so he shifts his attention to hearing their words and responding. His height seems to be the object of discussion, or ridicule to be more accurate, and he heaves a mental sigh at the boring topic. Still, the pony knows he can easily turn the conversation to other things, should he wish to, and there is still fun to be had in answering.
It is the threat from the Dauntless that he replies to first, the black lord boasting about how easy it would be to cease the tiny stallion’s biofunctions. “Surely you could,” he agrees calmly, “but it wouldn’t do you much good.” Whatever else he might have said is left in silence as the silver dragon leaps forward, calling Chester’s easily distracted attention to something far more interesting than hollow challenges. Again the white mare speaks, though the words are not fully her own. It would seem that the voiceless reptile uses her to communicate. How perfectly intriguing.
“Perhaps it is not I who am short, but everyone else who is large,” he retorts simply. “Have you been eating cake and mushrooms?” Tail flicks dismissively behind him as he regards the gathering of horses, feeling oddly apathic toward the group. “Or I may have sipped from the Drink Me bottle and shrank.”
Again, his interest is pulled to another stimulus, settling on Myrddin. It wouldn’t do to have the old stag stumbling about. Very impractical, in his opinion, and he rather enjoys the thought of more informed banter than that he would likely find elsewhere. “If not a home, Elderstag, then perhaps a guide may be of use? For ways are tricky things, and may disappear should you not keep an eye on them.”