Drogon

He watched with interest as the splashed mare turned to him, her heartbroken reply stirring the heavy jungle air. Most horses he met seemed to try and hide their sadness before strangers, but she did not bother with such trivialities, and interest glittered in his dark eyes. She was a beautiful little mystery that he felt compelled to investigate, and so he did, pathing close enough for easy conversation and then halting without touching her.

Drogon had no intention of hurting her. The Ridge might yet prove itself to be an ally, and he wouldn't spoil it with violence. Even if that had not been the case, he wasn't partial to idle bloodshed. It did not afford him the same release that it appeared to do with his older and more violent siblings, and he was ever aware of the fallout that often seemed to follow in the wake of excess cruelty.

"Paradise," he answers after a brief hesitation, his gaze searching hers for any recognition. His father's reputation was not small, and while newcomers might yet be unaware of it, Drogon was fairly certain that many of the Islanders knew him. He remembered the deal his father had made with Faolain and Rivaini, but he had no way of knowing whether this mare knew of it or not. For all that Drogon knew, she had no idea who the lover queens were and her sorrowful answer had been in reference to someone else.

"My name is Drogon," he said more softly and more quickly to her second question, with none of the earlier hesitation. His own name, at least, would probably have no connotations for her. He had not made a name for himself in Paradise or in the Bay, and was no more distinguishable than the multitudes of Rougaru's other children milling about their home island.

Bringing his gaze back to hers, he watched her for another moment before softening his tone further and stretching his muzzle out just slightly to imply a desire to comfort. The answer was obvious before him, and yet he hesitated as if unsure. She had opened up a door for him, even if she hadn't intended to, and while it wasn't a clear path toward his ultimate goal, it was a way to try and get closer to her.

"I could help you search for everyone," he says with a gentle smile, suspecting that she would turn him down. What little he'd seen and scented so far seemed to imply that she was well and truly alone here, and it wasn't as if many mares invited strange stallions in for a stroll around their territories alone. But the gesture might matter to her if his suspicions were correct. The attempt to make an effort, even if it was fruitless, was the important part. "Perhaps, in exchange for your name?"

Can you feel it?