Ghost Lion Crag And the rain

Smokestep’s ears swiveled so that he could listen to her remark on the many-headed beast. He wondered how these creatures happened upon their abilities; he wanted to know if it was something they were born with, or if they somehow acquired it over years of their life. The thought of such power was appealing to a spirited yearling like himself. If there was a way to obtain it, he would have searched for all his days. There was a romantic yearning at the thought of finding true power – a treasure unlike any other. The pirate kept these thought to himself but did offer a thoughtful expression to Wraen.
 
“It’s easy to jump to action,” he added with a bit of a sheepish smirk. He had always been the type to leap well before he looked. Of course, his present company did not know him well enough to confirm it. He wasn’t afraid to offer that as an insight to his own character for her. “Ye can deal wit the outcome later, eh?” he then searched for her approval, but he wondered if she would agree with the sentiment or side with a practical and rational standing.
 
In the same breath, she managed to surprise him with a comment on Medusa. She believed that the monster deserved some amount of compassion. He cocked his head to the left and looked at her with a slightly gaping mouth. His eyes searched her features for any signs of humor, but her statement seemed earnest. “Wot? I dunno if she’s the worst, now… but ye tell me why ye think she deserves any bit o’ compassion,” he prompted eagerly.