Lost Creek Hollow There's delays on the planes out of Eastern Montana

dracarys' words go unanswered, though in truth they brokered no response... and without any evidence to back up, the siren prince assumes that she does not speak the high tongue. if there is disappointment, it is a small pinprick, lasting but a breadth of a moment. there and gone. to hear the stories, his bloodline, their culture had been encouraged to spread far and wide.
not far enough, it seemed.
that was his duty: to remedy that.
he studies her kill, placed betwixt them, reading her invitation and the warning slithering 'round it.
dracarys blinks, considering for a moment before declining the offer with a small, polite shake of his head, paws firmly rooted in place. his interest was not in the calf.
i am dracarys. he offers in the common tongue then, settling into a casual recline upon his haunches.