"It brings with it other problems. You've not witnessed that?" She reaches for her wine, taking another, heartier sip. Rakharo and Irri come to mind. How he'd been beheaded. How inconsolable she'd been. Years have passed, and that memory still haunts her. "But I suppose that the Great Stallion is what encourages their ferocity in battle."

The glass is emptied. Only when it is does she manage to banish the memory. It helps they speak of the two kingdoms. More familiar territory, even if such lands were tarnished by memories of torture, currently.

"Humid. That's fair. Essos was much the same. I suppose it's more familiar to me in that regard." Upon mention of the dragons and their sanctuary, she quietly hums. "I'd believed mine to be lost. Most are awed by dragons. I take it you were not?"