He listened, and he chose his words carefully. It was not an easy thing to talk about, but he felt that at this point it... had to be understood. For some reason the thought that his words might insult, might hurt, this other person felt... wrong. Off. Bad. For some reason he didn't want to hurt him. Not his usual feeling of not wanting to hurt anyone but something more immediate, more specific, and harder to understand.

So he didn't speak at first, and when he finally did, his eyes were a dull red, and his words carefully spoken, carefully chosen. These were not words he wanted to say, but words the other needed to understand, to understand why he and Tiamaris were not alike, why Timaris was a monster, while the other was a man. The dragon... was a manifestation of the monster. Not the core of it. That was a good way to start, he decided.

"That I can turn into... that..." he said slowly. "These abilities, as you call them... That is not what makes me a monster. I as a monster before they developed. The dragon is simply the outer manifestation of the monster."

Then the words he really did not wish to ever say, the thing he hated thinking of... and here.... here there had been moments where it had not been shoved in his face every waking moment. Here he could have almost pretended to forget. He took a breath and then said very softly.

"I killed my mother. Long before I had any abilities of this sort."