The door stopped shut of crushing the dragon's foot, Amanti holding it just inches shy from those wiggling toes that were simply asking for it. He wasn't the kind to slam the door shut on someone, even less so to injure others even if knowing the constitution of the dragon; he would be fine a few moments later even if he had slammed the door hard enough to cut off the circulation to his toes or something. It would only serve to anger him as well. His wrath was something he didn't want to incite, though he didn't wish for him to enter the room and further agitate the Mer creature. Letting the door swing back to it's aforementioned position, he peered back up at the dragon. Blinking and reeling back at the finger suddenly thrust into his face before he met those constricted pupils with his own blazing eyes. In a staring contest, it would be hard to say who could make the other avert their gaze first.

  Jin Wei with his own intense emotion thinly veiled by those brilliant inhuman eyes or the mere Fae who had the summer sun burning in his own pupils, bright, but reluctant to burn those folly enough to stare into them. And as the prouder prince spoke, the other bowed his head and peered up at him through the stray golden locks falling in front of his face; sun light filtering through the treetops and cutting through the darkness of the forest. Unable to outshine the sun all the same. The metaphor didn't fit the demeanor though as the prince kept his head down as if willfully accepting the apparent berating and harsh accusations that the dragon was giving him. His hands coming to rest on the metal edge of the door, the softest sizzle coming from the slowly warming metal. Eyes cautiously studying that wiry smirk sent his way, one that didn't quite meet the Prince's eyes and wouldn't have made a difference if it had appeared or not at all; meaningless that couldn't be better summed up in any other amount of words.

  And when the foot slid out from the gap in the doorways and the draconic prince turned away with one more scathing comment tossed carelessly back at him, the fae opened the door wide enough to bow even if the Prince could not see it, choosing to thank him, "-for informing me of the meal and being so indulgent to my friend. I will try to dress appropriately so as to see I do not impair your appetite tonight."

  Pause, contemplation. Straightening up, he began to close the door, stopping short before the Prince could tread out of earshot. Expression blank, eyes on the floor, his voice echoed calling down the hallway despite his softest tone, "I would like to think I am not a fake, Prince Jin Wei, I just think perhaps you are not used to someone trying to be kind to you." 

 The door shut quietly.

  Turning to the creature, he was happy to find some friendly face within him amongst all that he had met so far on his journey and brief beginnings of his stay. Gaze softening, as if the Prince could know what he was like if all he was urged to give was a neutral stance and emotionless stare to him, "I am alright, Sindre. Words are nothing more than feathers; the quills are sharp, but if you know how to handle them, then they are barely a tickle." He recited though his words were a little weary and worn and he hoped that the look he had was enough to convey that he wished not to talk about the crown prince. 

  Carpet tickling his bare feet in reminiscence to the grassy plain he loved to tread on, he made his way over to the beautifully engraved wardrobe, fully stocked with clothes for him. He was somewhat taken aback by the many clothes awaiting him (and somewhat relived that they were free of ink) and a marveled at how soft they were. Like nothing between his skin as he carefully fingered the cloth. Soft and airy, but heavily adorned with golden thread and sequins. Extravagant, he could praise it, but he wished he need not wear it. It smelt like nothing, not like his home and admittedly, he somehow pictured he'd feel vaguely nude in such silky clothes. 

  The slight rocking of the glass scared him out of his hazy daze, dropping the cloth to  rush over to the thank and press his hands against it, "Careful, careful." He chanted, his heart nearly jumping out of his chest. If it tipped over, well, he didn't think that the creature's soft skin would deal well with cutting splintered glass though the Dragons were well renowned for their glass work, and all things related to smelting and heat (though dwarves might beg to differ).

  Keeping his hands worriedly inspecting the glass, "I hope to stay only as long as I need to establish a friendship between my people and the dragons, but I do not wish to stay much longer. I miss my home. I miss my family. It is strange, I've never been away for more than a day. I suppose, it is like if you've never been away from the sea until now..." His fingers slid down the glass silently as he bowed his head and inhaled, thinking himself a poor choice to send to make relations with the dragons, but honestly, there couldn't have been anyone better. 

  "Huh? Ah yes, I will have to change." He said, turning back hurriedly to his wardrobe and picking up the fallen robe. Making sure it was not ripped or dirty; the problem with such beauties were how fragile they were. He found the same polished sandals beneath his bed, tucked away neatly as if quietly waiting someone to fulfil their only purpose. He'd worn shoes before, but not something quite so smooth and...well, to any other; they were beautifully worked pieces of art, carved to a point. To him; they were skinned pieces of dead wood, impaled by woven string and strapped to his foot. How easy it would be to take a misstep. He was not used to the elegant float of royalty and thus looked rather clumsy in the clogs. 

  "I will..I will try to be fast. I may take some time to speak with them, but I will try to be back soon to speak with you. Perhaps your own food will have arrived by then." He spoke whilst he climbed onto the bed and affixed the blankets to the posts on either side of the bed, making a sort of makeshift changing screen for him to hide behind. The top of his head visible as he bid farewell to his worn brown cloak and his own loose weaved garments underneath. Clothes did not make a person, but he felt like someone else as he slid into the silken robe. Shivering at the cool thread sliding over his skin that really did make him feel like he was still wearing nothing. 

  "How do I look?" He asked, sliding off the bed and from behind the screen. Surprisingly, the robe fitted him almost perfectly and at least it allowed freedom of movement. It really was rather gaudy for him, but he hoped he at least looked descent enough for the Emperor. He couldn't say the same for his walking though, finding it somewhat difficult to maneuver his way around in the sandals that didn't seem like they were made for him. Well, if he went barefoot, surely no one would notice under his robe.

  "I will be back soon, alright?" He patted the glass, "And then...then we will discuss how to get you back to your home." A solemn promise. A serious gaze before the fae turned away and hurried to meet his hosts for dinner, hoping that he wouldn't overstep his boundaries if he hadn't already with the prince.
[hr]
  The land was a forgotten feeling, oddly familiar, but no comparison to the foamy waves or the drifting currents. The sand squelched wetly in between his toes, irritating his skin. The air, whilst still traced with the lingering salt of the sea, was dry and cold as it rushed into his lungs. Smooth conch held cautiously in his webbed hands, he licked his lips and brought it to his mouth, fingers over the carefully chiseled holes in it's side. He prayed Sindre was here, he prayed he could hear his cry. This time. This time please. He already wanted to dive back into the choppy waters behind him, but he stayed even as a cold breeze knocked against him. Inhale, and then the horn sounded hoarsely into  the dark, crying out into the night.