Welcome to Gaia! ::

One interview done. That went pretty well, after all - maybe he'd been terrified for no reason at all. They hadn't tried killing him, at least, though Meera had been a guard. He breathed deeply, sitting and waiting as, after Pavoth and Meera had left, Damith decided to finally go for the food he'd wanted.

When he came back, A'stor greeted him with a cheery <See, wasn't so bad! You can handle children after all,> which was tactfully ignored by Damith who felt it deserve no response at all, that it would only encourage his to continue being such a sharding monster otherwise.

He settled down in the hot sun against his dragon, who was lazy and sleepy now, and the pair waited until another set of footsteps disturbed them enough to make them sit up and see if it was another hatchling. It wasn't a particularly awe-inspiring showing, really, but A'stor would say he wasn't really an awe-inspiring man except for the fact that he was part giant. He seemed at ease, the way he leaned against his dragon, stretched out in the sun, eyes closed - but he wasn't. He was busy chewing information over, pondering what he'd learned, what he'd pieced together. Maybe he didn't regret coming altogether.

A'stor nodded, tipped his head towards the - rather large - pink and its rider coming up towards the dozing pair of Watchriders. He could manage a slightly more impressive display than this, though, and drew himself to his full height before she could quite make it up to him.

"Hello," he smiled as he said it, nodded cheerily, and made sure he wasn't in her way if she just wanted to breeze past him and feed her dragon instead of dealing with him. "I'm A'stor of Damith, a Watchrider." That was probably obvious but he found that it didn't hurt to make his position clear. He half bowed his head, ever one to be polite (especially to strangers and twice the especially to strangers who could help him in some way), and any sort of judgement that he may or may not have felt towards the ... utter pinkness (because there was no question. The dragon was pink. Several shades of pink, no, that was pink) wasn't apparent on his face, in the warm smile and the light in his eyes.

"Sorry to spring myself on you, like this."

<I am Damith, young one.> The lazing bronze murmured to Haemath's mind, one eye coming only a fraction open. <Yours is free to feed you, if you are hungry; we will not take up that much of your time, nor do we need all of her attention. And, of course, she is free to tell us she is not interested.>

...He? One eyebrow twitches upwards and his smile turns a bit smirking, though it's internally rather than externally. A he, and that bright a pink? He never would've guessed it, honestly.

<Damith, hm.>

<No.>

<I just think you're awfully pale, you know, and-->

<No.>

<You have a sort of pink sheen to you and you were his size.>

<Mine, I swear -->

<Perhaps you're a pink. The first of them, and I didn't even know.> There's the feeling of a gay joke somewhere in there, but A'stor tactfully doesn't make it. It doesn't matter because Damith is still quite pissed about it.

Oh, A'stor would pay for this. But Damith had patience and he needed to focus on the small dragon in front of him. He squashed the frustration and shoved it into a tiny mental box where it would fester and become worse and worse. <It is nice to meet you.> His voice was flat, almost monotone, and cool. <Chasing things can be entertaining.>

He stretches out and keeps watching the infant dragon. <Mine insists that I am far too large to be fed. I suggest you enjoy it while you can.>

"Oh, that would be lovely. He's quite the handsome hatchling. He looks like he'll get quite big, hm? Damith was about his size, I think." The remarks are idle, because he could remember that, when he'd gotten Damith, the dragon was all he'd wanted to talk about for months. "Interesting?" He gives a short, soft sound of laughter. "I'm not sure how interesting I am, but I'll do my best to not disappoint you. After you!" He motioned towards the feeding pen, still content to stand near his dragon until she started moving. "Since I'm inconveniencing you, you can choose where we sit. Fair, right?"

A'stor follows a few steps behind, politely, not wanting to crowd or rush her. He walks at a leisurely pace, enjoying the length of his legs and his stride. He was at ease, here, at ease in nature. Damith chose to stay behind, opting to not follow nor get up; he would stay where he was, the huge beast, until he was needed or requested to do otherwise.

"Oh? You're a weaver? Do you think you're going to keep studying it or give it up? I stopped mine when I got Damith. And I'm coming, really." With that, he climbs up onto the rock and sits, one leg pulled up halfway to his chest. "And I don't know; this place seems pretty interesting to me. I just do a lot of following orders and whatnot. Here, at least, there's orders and murder. And I mean, that hatching - you have the first pink dragon we know of." He smiles a bit more for a second. "And we don't even have the whole picture of what's been happening here." He sighs through his nose and tilts his head back to stare up at the sky. "Which I'm really interested in hearing. Do you think, maybe, you could tell me your side of the story?"