Dragoncrest Cliffs son of none

They were unnerved by him, and while Edmund was a perceptive sort he dismissed their feelings as commonplace. Such things followed him wherever he went and he had become accustomed to the subtle awkwardness of meetings. It does not enter his mind that perhaps watching and waiting for the leader's approval is a bad thing, or an intense thing, because that's all he's after—a place to stay, the go-ahead. The girl speaks and he listens, since that's why he is here, waiting for a verdict. But she requests his name first. An easy trade.

Edmund. He says. There is no explanation to accompany this as he doesn't view further information as necessary; she asks, he provides. If she asked for more, he'd give more—but he does finally break his eyes away from her and fleetingly look around at the gathering force that is her family. Drageda? Sounds interesting enough.