in this world where time is your enemy, it is my greatest ally. this grand game of life which you think you play in fact plays you. to that i say... (margaret in azeroth)
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So much of Azeroth is beautiful! The natural landmarks are gorgeous of course, but she's more excited about the places people have made. Even the ruins were clearly lovely once, for all that they're depressing now.

Maragosa approaches the temple, admiring the architecture and searching her memories for anything she knows on the etiquette of interacting with dragons of other flights.

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Proper etiquette is mostly based around not presenting as a threat. The visitor is deferential, doesn't hide their approach, leaves when asked. In the case of Wrymrest Temple in particular, it is customary for everyone to shift out of dragon form for as long as they're in the building itself.

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She glides toward the temple and starts making a slow circle around its top, curious whether anyone will approach her.

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Some of the reds shift to orbit around her path, though they don't approach close enough to talk.

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Once she's gone all the way around once, she lands, shifts dwarf, and heads inside.

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A male human figure with bright golden hair is waiting just inside. He has a magical aura around that is quite unlike any magic she's seen, swirling and looping in patterns that are missing pieces and change in response to unseen stimuli.

"And there she is, just on time. Maragosa, right?"

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"Yes, that's me. If you don't mind my saying so, your aura is fascinating."

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"Well it's not quite all here right now. That's Bronzes for you."

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"Huh. Okay. So, you know my name, but I don't know yours." Hardly surprising for a dragon whose domain is time.

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"Right. I," he bows grandly, "am Mezadormu, Warden of the Sands and inveterate troublemaker."

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"Pleased to meet you," she says, slightly bemused. "I've never heard anyone describe himself that way." Though he has heard various caretakers describe various clutchmates, and occasionally her, as such.

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"I'm not surprised. There aren't very many Wardens of the Sands and we don't get out to the Nexus that often."

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"I'm afraid I don't even know what a Warden of the Sands is."

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"Means if something goes wrong, I'm the one who has to tell the Aspect. And then Nozdormu would probably make me fix it."

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"Oh, okay. So what brings you here? Hopefully not something being wrong."

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"Just checking in, catching up with some friends. Come on, I'll give you the tour."

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"Oooh, thanks!" She happily follows along on the tour, still slightly graceless on two legs but capable of keeping up. 

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The halls of Wyrmrest Temple are large enough to fit a dragon, even if no one is ever actually dragon-shaped inside them. There are rooms for sleeping, eating, socializing. Items of historical import and written records.

"So what brings you out into the world?"

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"I want to see new places, and meet new people, and learn things I can't learn at home. It's working pretty well so far."

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"That's a rare attitude for a blue. For most dragons, actually. We tend to be pretty hermetic."

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"Well, I don't know how long I'll keep doing it. Magic practice is definitely easier with a home base, not to mentioned more experienced blues to talk to. But I wanted to try it at least the once."

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"That's the spirit! Try everything once."

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"Yup! Does your Warden work involve much travel?"

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"From time to time, yes. There's not a place on Azeroth I won't eventually already have been."

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Maragosa chuckles at the phrasing, takes a moment to decipher it, and concludes that it would be valid even if Mezadormu interacted with time in a purely linear manner.

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