"It seems fortunate we've met, then, as I will undoubtedly need such things in the future," but not tonight. He was prepared for the ever hungry, ever unpredictable beast that is the War to come slinking out of the shadows and feed.

He's always ready for that. Nearly sixty year old Amberdrake will, in that future, still be waiting for it. When his daughter heads off on her first mission for the Silvers, armed and armored and trained, accompanied by her gryphon partner Tadrith, Amberdrake will be expecting the War to lunge after them.

And he'll be right.

It's always out there, waiting. Always. Urtho's people have learned this lesson well.

"My name is Amberdrake," he offers once he's done applying expert bandages over his stitches. He hasn't ignored his patient, speaking to her in quiet tones during the procedure. But it's obvious when he's talking to Severus, because his tone has been trained to carry as well. He's no teacher, but kestra'chern are performers in many ways, and now that he's a King... well. It comes in handy.

He doesn't quite prompt the younger man for his name, curious to see if he'll simply give it or not. You can learn a lot about someone by how they respond to you giving them your name.