The old man expresses his happiness to see his youngest dragonborn in only the way he knows how. He draws his boy close (nearly his own height) and breathes slowly. Family was everything and it seemed all too common that there lay fragmented foals from broken homes and absent parents.
The dark male savors this moment with an approving rumble in his chest, the dark leathery wings enveloping Bronsonn carefully. Lior is quite away his son as well as Castile have surpassed him in ways he will knew know but he is proud and he knows Nayl is as well. They have bore strong children into Beqanna, gifts among the lambs, to lead them to righteousness and salvation. After a few more heartbeats, the stallion steps back to admire the painted stallion. "I knew you were here. Where is your brother?" He asks lowly, a gravely voice grinding between his rusted jaws.
Silver-white eyes seem to float against the metallic of his dark face, hair tangled and tattered in their typical fashion. He lifts his pale gaze away momentarily in hopes to see Castile bu he knew his first child would be along. "Are your sisters here?" The question is unwavering as there is no inflection in his voice. Lior's desire to reunite with his family are not without intention as something drew the old dragon to return from his quiet alcove to that of Beqanna. Nothing drew his from his woman's side but Lior felt the need of his children, their desire to have their father among them again.
but i can still remember just the way you taste