The gunmetal male allows his son to take the isle by it's thin throat, the words are bitten and shaped so that the residents of the sandbar could easily digest the parts.
Lior had not been around for the rulings. He had know the stallion Tiphon from a distance on occasional interactions from when he lay as Queensguard of the Iron Isles. Lior was a quiet man, aged, grayed, a silent lurking shadow to creep just on the outer edges of the mind's eyes. In this moment, having easily tracked the painted dragon of his loins, had been an easy task for there was no need to inhibit your trail when you chose not to hide.
Castile had began strong as he explained the turnover of power. The gilded king Tiphon had stepped down in lieu of Castile and the residents were upset...not quite shocking. They spat petty words of opposition but we all knew through out history there must be an usurper. No man in history ever was remembered for being of meek and mild temperament...coaxed along like a lamb to the slaughter.
Silver-white eyes slid over the horses from one sunken face to the other, their eyes glittering, their chests puffed and rounded in their anger. Only one stood to align with the Dragonborn...a lovely dark mare with deep indigo blaze. The others...an older man and a few women...one cursing in quite an unappealing manner, another a shadow of a youthful grullo mare and then a young lavender female dragon...and a phoenix? He is disappointed they must resort to their magics at the first sign of danger. He wonders if their tongues even work or all animals have become so brutish in the time he had been away.
Lior sighs heavily, rumbling in his chest, for he recalled the days they had all been stripped of their abilities and left with tooth and nail to tear at each other's hides before they were deemed worthy of the magical practice. The large stallion decides to break from the edge of the gathering to pick his way with the width of his form through the resort members to take the side of the dark mare and Castile. The residents (or those choosing to remain) would not know him and surely question and baw like unmilked cows. Lior chooses to remain silent and watching with a tempered eye. Lior trusts the dragon stallion and his crusade. If there should be war, then so be it.
True Dragonborn fear no one.