Altar of Twilight i'm feeling primitive

Drogon lets out a soft, contented hum of a noise that lingers in his throat when Galaxy tells him she’ll take him there. He’d like that, but he’s already said that and then realizes he inadvertently hadn’t answered her previous question about stargazing. “I, uh, don’t really stargaze too often.” He admits awkwardly, if not a bit randomly as he feels the impulse to answer in case she thought he was avoiding it or ignoring it. “To answer one of your previous questions.” He offers a sheepish smile upon the curling of the corners of his lips but ultimately rolls with the better late then never saying. “but I do it from time to time.” He finishes lamely. He feels like an idiot because where’s that silver spoon now? Does it just magically vanish in front of pretty girls or is he losing his touch? Could he lose it? Drogon didn’t think that was something someone could lose. He is grateful for the topic change and Drogon doesn’t linger long in his awkwardness but instead preens as she asks if he’s a mercenary. “Yep. I just earned my warrior specialty not long ago.” A fact he is incredibly proud of. It was nice to see his effort and hard work come to fruition and be rewarded for it. The mastery was his next goal though he’s been dabbling a bit in other trades to see if there was anything else he’d like to pursue once he accomplished his mastery; but he’s not ben overly serious about anything else yet.

The soturi watches as his fair companion rises to all fours and asks him a few questions and in lieu of not having a repeat of the last time where he completely forgets to answer one he focuses upon them. Have you been here before? “A few times,” Drogon responds contemplatively. “This was where Hydra recruited me, actually; and I’ve been here rather recently.” He doesn’t speak of Ganondorf directly, but his escort of the ex-Blackfeather wolf was what he means vagueness aside. “I never stopped to appreciate it though.” So in a way this was kind of his like first time visiting the territory because it’s the first time he sees it without the press of a mission on his mind. “Hmm,” His glacial gaze sweeps over the territory again. “Kuunsäde Laakso, maybe.” Drogon’s not overly imaginative, admittedly ( which is probably why he’s like a blind man when he looks up at the stars ), and the name he chooses is relatively simple but he speaks it in Tundrian so it sounds prettier than it actually is …which is probably cheating. “What would you call it?” Drogon inquires in return, noting the thoughtfulness upon her expression.

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