"My, what an observation." His tone is dry, but light. Unable to wear an ill-fitting mask of total harmlessness, but not meaning anything bad by it. (Yet.) "This is no one's home."

Well spotted, if noticing the horizon is especially skillful.

The violet cast over Daemon's eyes is more prominent, deep enough and sparking with refractions in the light to sometimes appear hazel. His leather armor is patterned after scales, and there are small silver dragons holding latches together. Worn-in, lived-in gear, said scales are supple by now, and said silver dragons are dull. Not gaudy, but certainly not subtle. Perhaps the most telling thing is the same tell as the other man's: Daemon shows no fear of the green dragon.

"You sound awfully northern to be a dragonkeeper."

Sus.