Monroe

It was soothing, listening to the waves hitting the cliff next to his hiding spot whenever Monroe wasn't able to calm down in the company of others. When he needed some time on his own to sort through his emotions and thoughts that sometimes built up like the waves in a storm, towering over the highest trees, threatening to drown out anything in reach - good or bad.
Sometimes he even preferred the company of just the water and its residents to that of dragons, just because they could get along without communication. Just quiet side-by-side existence. It did not mean he didn't like his own kind, in fact he'd feel very lonely if they weren't there but sometimes he just needed a break from it all. Just some time away to recharge, stare at fish, cool his wings and claws in the salty waves near the beach. And whenever he thought he was done and ready to re-enter dragon-society, he brought some gifts. Trinkets for the others to collect or stash away in their little private hoards. It wasn't much, just some pretty seashells, stones or smooth driftwood. Sometimes it was things that looked like they had been lost by someone. Monroe kept some of them in secret, writing stories about the possible owners of old rings, chains, bottles, vases or weathered pieces of paper. It was his favorite hobby, just ... imagining the life of others and how they could have lost their belongings. Maybe in a storm, on a flight, due to carelessness or maybe they got stolen. And when he was done with another story he liked to think about the things he might have lost along the way and if someone else might have found them, thinking about who they could have belonged to ...