[there's not really a sense of threat about him--he walks like a man whose bones ache in the cold, which is true enough. though his hair hangs in front of his face, mordred might notice behind it a dark eye, set a bit lower than the other, pupil so dilated it appears black. something definitely happened to this one, and it was not good.

he smiles at the question.]

It was given to him by-- [it takes him a moment, trying to think of a good word for tanaros blacksword, before he settles] --my friend, Tanaros. He found my little brother here in the moon garden, wing broken and no nest in sight, and took him in. Tanaros nursed and kept him until he was strong again, and then let him join his brethren.