Falls

The chocolate-colored colt is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't immediately notice that the aged grey stallion is heading his direction until his awkward rolling gait begins to slow. Curiosity sparks in his dark eyes, and he turns to watch the progress of the stranger.

For a moment he wonders if this is Devil's Retribution. He is pale in color, a not altogether common occurrence in Drogon's limited purview of the world, but upon closer inspection is not entirely white. Nor is he really the sort of man his mother would fall for, Drogon thinks. If there is an underlying principle to Vanya's personality, it is that vanity trumps all.

Drogon watches him silently as he takes his drink, absorbed with curiosity. In truth, he rarely met other equines. Apart from Rougaru - who Vanya only allowed grudgingly into his life - Drogon didn't play with the other children, or speak to the other mares. He knew of Rougaru's other sons, but apart from brief interactions with Loupgaru, had not even been allowed to play with them. His world had been largely limited to his mother and Rougaru, right up until the Peak had stepped in and thrown his entire world topsy turvy.

When at last he does speak, Drogon is not immediately sure if it is an insult or not and stiffens accordingly, his dark eyes narrowing. "You seem pretty old to do so much swimming," he offers back with a testy twitch of his tail. In truth, the chocolate colt felt entirely certain that he was ready to survive without his mother already, albeit only with Rougaru to watch his back. He wasn't about to strike out on his own and try to claim a land all by his little lonesome, although that was certainly the eventual plan.

He has half a plan to continue baiting the old stranger when he finally introduces himself and all thoughts of rebellion leave his mind. He knew Devil's Retribution? "Drogon," he introduces himself impatiently, hardly bothered with giving up his own name. Vanya had said that his father was white, but this man certainly was not. Then again, she had been known to stretch the truth. Narrowing his gaze, the lean yearling stepped forward. "You know Devil's Retribution? Do you know where he is?"

As much as the colt wants to bombard this stranger with questions like why he said 'de Devil's Retribution' and why he was here, and where the Inlet was, and so on, he knows better than to reveal his hand all at once. He may not be the accomplished manipulator his mother was, but he knew better than to tip his hand too early.