I draw and the black beast watches, his features intent. My lips turn wry at his seriousness, though I do appreciate it. The world has enough jesters and fools, here at it's edge we're interested only in the skilled and the wise.

The look upon the other's visage tells me what I need to know. He has selected already, and I think I know which. I proceed to illustrate however, remembering that Kaj had taken interest in warrior as well as crafter in such a similar position. Perhaps the stony stallion would find a secondary taste to occupy his time when his ruined body needed resting.

The mists part as Lace encounters us. His quiet causes me to tilt my head in his direction, curious at his intentions. I am grateful for his support in these dark times. Though I know not his skill in battle I'm sure it is far beyond mine, as any are. I am unafraid though. I think if the noble goliath before me had wished to betray he would have done it already.

Warrior

He murmurs the word with such ease, pulling my thoughts back to the matter at hand. I know it has been dancing on the tip of his tongue since the first image I procured. I had a feeling as much, so it came to be I illustrated it first, in hindsight a likely torture to the brute that I forced to play dictionary with me. It will do him good, I think with a silent chuckle to myself.

I glance over at the one who joined me. Lace and his pale dragon Fajira, glazier of the World's Edge. He is no warrior, but he will serve Destrier well all the same. Lucky for me Lace came at a good point in the conversation, if that's still what it can be called when only one side does the talking. The stranger is now a brother.

I make to leave.

Though I do not mean to scurry away when my side has just been joined, I hope to meet Lace again very soon and besides, nothing in my job description tells me of being social. I did my herd bound duty in intercepting the intruder and making peace with him one way or another. My game of art and dance can only last so long when one needs telling and not guessing. I nod to Destrier, a kind welcome in the bow of my nape and the gleam of my eyes, warm and bright.

I proffer Lace a fleeting line on my lips, an apologetic smile, before turning into the mists to be swallowed up once more.