"You are adding to the library?" Nazarchtharin continues, in draconic this time. "Yes," Inric says, mirroring the language switch with some relief. "The wyrbeasts of Lisgaros... My naya went there once." The term means one of Nazarchtharin's closest kin, a social or biological parent. "When they were young. They saw your people arrive." "That would be 130 years ago," Inric says, making it a statement rather than a question. "Oh no, 1300 years." Nazarchtharin grins. "You may ask questions. I will not consider it a debt." Irritated, and more so because it is unreasonable to be irritated, Inric makes himself say "thank you. If your naya has any other information, I would appreciate it."