Logan followed the blonde woman out the door, making sure to note the positions of who appeared to Lumara's allies, and ignored the nagging suspicion that was tapping at the back of his mind. There was something the bandaged man had said that was vitally important, but it wasn't returning to the forefront of his whirling thoughts, and as such could wait until this woman and her wyvern were sorted. The spellcaster returned from the depths of his mind as they crossed into the stables, the resulting smell of horses and feces ripping through any semblance of inner concentration that Logan may have built up. He stared vacantly at the horses, dismissing them as great stupid beasts before his eyes lighted upon the brown wyvern that was no doubt the object of Lumara's affection. 

There was a moment's pause as man and beast saw eye to nose for a moment or two, before Logan's mouth broke into a grin usually reserved for rare tomes or other magi. [b]"Wonderful! Magnificent!"[/b] The dark mage did a little jig as he danced closer to the wyvern, darting back and forth around the entire creature as he examined everything that the still sleepy monster would show from his small position. After quite a few moments of excited movement, Logan turned to Lumara, his face still holding the elated expression of child-like proportions. [b]"How old is he? What does he eat? How does he act when he feels you're in danger? What does he consider danger? How does he fly? When is he most active? How does one tell if he wants to mate? How does he maintain his hygiene? Why'd you choose him? Does it cause him stress to be in a stable? Is he a prime example of a male of his species? Can-"[/b] The dark mage cut off, and began to gasp for breath, holding up a finger to signify a moment's pause before gasping out: [b]"Well?"[/b]