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Nhim has been making her way south from Nebraska-she'd rather head north towards her preferred climate, truth be told...but she also knows that food is more likely to be plentiful-not to mention easier to catch-towards the south, and right now, her stomach is the most pressing matter on her mind. Of course, there's still matter of finding a cave or the like that she can't get stuck in to make into a lair, and then outfitting it with a new hoard. For now, though? It's all about food.

She peers down at the landscape, her ears pricking forward as she spots an group of cattle wandering along. The dragon goes into a dive and easily slams into one as the rest of the herd flees, then, after a moment of covering her kill with her wings and looking around-old habits die hard-begins to eat. Despite being a ravenous giant carnivore, she'd actually welcome company. She hasn't run into many things that talk thus far.

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"'Very rarely', though. So I assume it does happen on occasion?"

"It does - most often in the ancient times, when the Church was young." A slight smile of amusement. "It seems our Lord feels no pressing need to 'hold the Church's hand', as it were.

"Is prophecy common among the peoples of your land?"

She nods. "Extremely. It goes in cycles. The forces of darkness and evil will rise up and overtake a land, or a religion will become corrupt and cruel, or a people will be driven out from their homeland, or some other crisis will happen-but usually there's some sort of ancient prophecy other another, hidden away somewhere, that tells of how someone will rise up and right it all. And they do. Then order is restored and the balance shifts again until the next cycle."

Oliver's eyebrows do rise a tad, then settle back into their normal position.

"How convenient," he replies politely.

"It's how the world works. For awhile, evil will seem to be totally in control in a land-or several lands, or once over the entire world-but in the end, things are righted." She pauses. "At least until the next time."

Oliver ponders how best to say this.

"I am afraid this world might run on different cycles than those you are used to. Order can be precious difficult to find."

Or so Oliver feels, going through his little spiritual crisis at the moment.

"So it seems," Nhim sighs. "But surely something will happen to set it right again." In her experience, they always do.

"A hope of many," Oliver replies, "and one that features often in my prayers."

A moment of pensive silence follows, and Oliver affects a more cheerful attitude. "But in the meantime, there is the Cooper farm - and the city of Metropolis, which I'm told is relatively stable."

"The farm sounds pleasant, particularly with the shifter you mentioned. The city, though..." She shakes her head. "In my experience, most cities aren't built for dragons. I've only been in them a handful of times, and every time I felt cramped."

"I cannot say this one will be much different, if it is like other cities I've seen."

"Most likely. I became stuck on my first visit to one...and I stepped on a cart. I doubt that even now I would be able to move easily. Not to mention that humans seem to take a dim view of most buildings being used as perches."

"Perhaps if you persuaded the owner of a building that you would make a particularly effective gargoyle," the 'Sworn jokes.

"Looking appropriate isn't the problem-it's that most buildings apparently aren't built to hold my weight." Large dragon is, in fact, large.

This is why Oliver let Barty or Adam bring in the funny.

His expression becomes his customary seriousness once more. "Yes, of course."

"I don't suppose you know of any mountain ranges? Cold mountain ranges? I haven't seen any sign of them, but even knowing what direction in which to head would be useful. They would be more comfortable for staying in than a city."

"The Rocky Mountains in the state of Colorado, further west of Kansas," Oliver replies after a second's thought. He did have to study the map for a while on the drive with Thrust.

"I have a map in my saddlebag, should you care for more information."

Nhim chuffs a bit, pleased. "I doubt I'll need it. I've traveled on directions less clear than that before, and found my destination-and I doubt I'll miss a mountain range."

Oliver smiles. "Happy to have been of help even in such a meagre way, lady...."

"Ah, I do believe I forgot my introductions." Because he was too busy worrying about being eaten. Ahem.

"Godsworn Oliver Wycliffe, at your service."

Nhim nods, bowing her head a bit. She can't really do a proper bow with a bad leg, unfortunately. "If we're including titles-Nhim the Brown."

With a teensy bit of embarrassment, "Titles are habit with me by now, I'm afraid."

"Oh, I don't mind. We dragons use titles amongst ourselves constantly, and usually do the same while with those of rank."

"Are all your titles related to flesh-colour?"

"Not always. Sometimes they relate to territories owned, or deeds, or characteristics. My brother, for example, is Issolt the Watcher."

It's a title Oliver can relate to.

As he glances back to check on his horse, he says, "Godsworn have nothing so elaborate. We are all brothers among ourselves, Godsworn to the rest of the world."

Nhim's jaws gape slightly. "We dragons are fond of our titles and rankings, particularly when young. Once you've reached my age-dinner and a pleasant nap are generally of more interest."