it is the woman dracarys sees first, her chuff drawing his gaze away from his path though he eyed it less as if he were studying it and more like a secondary nature. he trusted his instincts not to lead him too terribly astray. at the very least, he trusted his distracted wandering not to lead him into the water; a irony that does not slip the siren prince's notice.

perhaps he would need a new epithet soon. siren prince. lord of the tides ... neither were necessary anything he wanted any part of given how he'd ended up here.

his lips pause to speak, only for his jaw to snap shut; guard hairs prickling along his spine as the world stilled and flushed with silence that leaves dracarys feeling uneasy. his head and gaze goes to the woman, trying to decipher if she too, noticed this.

and then he heard it. no, not just heard it. felt it. saw it.

and when he blinks, as if awakening out of his fever dream, dracarys can still see the beast behind his eyelids, and past it the frozen lake.

d-did you see that, too? he asks the stranger in rough hewn common, forgoing his native tongue. there was no room for miscommunication here ... not when he had so many questions — mostly, presently, revolving around his own sanity.