Paz

There's a partial set of armor hanging on the wall.
Dear god, is that - it is. It's a set of jewelry, a set worn by kings, queens, those respected as such, even gods , made of glass spheres blown in the sheer heat of the lightweaver's presence, jewelry last made so long ago that it might as well have been made before the breaking of the pillar - hanging, long uncharged and dusty, on the wall of a humble lair's nursery.
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Paz LOOOOOOOOOVES Gulbahar. loooooooove ♥ She is so great, and so big, and so STRONG. He just swoons a little inside every time he sees her, because how did a fluffy little tundra like him get a lady like HER?

...ahem.
Not as spacey as other Tundras, which is good, because he's the one who files the clan's records. Like a friendly uncle to the younger dragons, he's always there to talk them through their problems - although he leaves Cassandra's whining to his mate.

He and Amadan are already buddies; Paz says Amadan must be his "Brother from another mother" since they've got similar pale coloring. They're both contemplating getting tatoos, which is... ominous, to the least.
Imagine that mulberry tert expressed.
Imagine it.