Dion smiles, surprised by how much lighter he feels for a single conversation. And how much less alone.

"It seems the both of us may have spent too long on the battlefield to make scholars of ourselves. But you've certainly piqued my curiosity. Mayhap we might reconvene on the morrow. I'll send you a stolas-" he pauses, recalling the bird contraption he'd been presented with. "Or rather, a missive, if that suits."