Genrit anticipated that his story would probably not have been believed, though Mojavico has offered to believe it. Even if it was done so in the manner it was. What he hears from them strikes him as odd. Their attitudes hint that they expect their words to carry certain weight that he doesn't fully understand. By no means is he stupid, he understands that Vesenthicar is looking down on him and that Mojavico is rather snide. But he sees no point in this, these mannerisms like the eye rolling from Mojavico are... Not like a dragon. They remind him of the other races. This is the product of dragons when exposed to a more social society. He frowns slightly as he turns his attention to Vesenthicar. The way she looks down on him causes him no real distress, though he does wonder how she would have been if she had been raised wild. Would she still be this creature of such status? Or would she be the decapitated head besides him?
Hm, does she still see her parents?
He blinks a few times as he returns from his thoughts and looks at Mojavico. As the copper dragon says his farewell and takes off, Genrit takes a moment to observe his surroundings. His instincts tell him to stay, to ensure that his home remains protected. But he attempts to rationalize. He managed to stay frozen for three hundred years without being disturbed. He also lacks any form of wealth. The most valuable thing he owns is this now rotting head. Not much of a hoard. Maybe he could follow them to Pyresia. If just to get his leg fixed. His head tilts to look at the two dragons, taking note of the markings on their wings. He entertains the thought as to whether or not they're even dragons anymore. They possess the body, but they do not have the mind.
A shame, really.
Genrit's wings expand and flap powerfully, causing the head next to him to skid along the ground a few meters from the force. His huge body is lifted off of the ground and he goes to follow the two visitors. He has made up his mind. He'll follow them in order to satisfy his curiosity. He has many questions and they will be better answered with a brief visit to Pyresia instead of his chance encounters with tiny half-breeds and dragons with inflated egos that follow humanoid standards. He manages to catch up to them and begins to glide alongside them. He deeply breathes the warm air in as he feels the air slip between his horns. He can't help but keep his head tilted ever so slightly to the left, monitoring Mojavico as he flies near him. The only times he has flown alongside a dragon has been in combat. But to just... Fly with two other dragons...
Genrit's whole life is becoming almost surreal.