[ Lancer, you're gonna spoil him. First ale, then magical fire! The light catching on his fur makes it seem golden, and he seems to appreciate it as he does scoot a little closer (gracefully, of course).

He smiles. ]

It is a worthy cause. Protecting one's lands and people does not always involve the use of a sword or spear.

[ Sometimes, it's the little things that are most important.

A brief pauses follows, and Aslan blows quietly on the rune, making it all the brighter for the breadth of a few seconds. Sheer light before it turns back to flame. Then, tilting his head, he considers Lancer quietly. ]

I believe you know me.

[ Or at the very least, what he is. A being of light and beginnings. ]