Another empty day on the clan fourms

I've given up on dusting, honestly. Mostly amuse myself by making dust angels on the floor.
I see footprints, sometimes, not sure if that's just mine, or if someone else is here?
I talk to the empty hallways, and hear naut but my own voice in return Q.Q

Today I said nothing, but listened closely. I heard my own voice, talking to itself. A collaboration of echos, nonsense, but still words. Solace. Companionship. Tomorrow, I shall start a new project. I may not have been a scientist. A fair many dragons have done greater then me in progression while I honed my art of naps, But while I slept, I listened. And I learned. And tomorrow, i shall conduct my first experiment. First, I shall silence these halls once more. And then. Then I will begin to both question, And answer.

Spending what seemed like ages in total silence, I methodically sought, and dampened out all noise in these hollowed halls. Finding a comfortable resting spot after making sure I had a full belly, I settle down, not planing on moving again for a good long time. Waiting hours, Days, time melding together as I strain my ears to hear over the internal roar of my own blood, I finally draw a slow, methodical breath, and start to speak, the language of our people, a tongue that few might understand should someone walk in.

"ava'yorn lyrik darastrix."

Spending a moment to let that hang in the air, ears perked, alert for the rebound, ready for it.
It comes, slower then expected, but the return is there, and greeted.

"ava'yorn. svanoa re wux naeck?"

Timeing it, waiting, the words come back. Not the initial greeting, but the question.
With a smile, the resting darastrix waits his turn, and replies

"evakyl. coi ui bensvelk ekess tepoha creolna ekess ukris ekess tenamalo"

He'd spend days like this, talking to himself, talking to the echo like it was an old friend. Eventually the trained ears, listening for naut but the echo would hear the distant reverberations of the first greeting comeing back to him. He had but one reply, before the conversation would start again.

"coi ui wer tairais di sia jaseve de tenpiswo, sia thurirl. nomag wer navnik di darastrixi boja qe mrith wux."

A suitable parting. He'd stand. Limbs weak, and weary, moving on to another part of the hall as his first greeting graces his ears freshly. For a second, he would pause, the voice sounding different. Fresher, younger, hesitant. Like someone who was talking to someone they didn't know. It sounded diffrent enough to make him turn, and search the empty hall for another, before shaking his head, and finding a new, silent place to rest.

Perhaps... perhaps a small nap was in order. That had been a longer conversation then he'd anticipated. It would not do to end the next sooner then necessary.

A few days later, the darastrix awoke, once again hungry, but the thought of renewed conversation interested him more then the thought of food. he listened, carefully, and then when he was sure no false echos would impeede his conversation, he began to talk. He talked and talked, and days dragged on, though in the end, he would be too exausted to finish the conversation, the muffed thump of his body collapsing on the floor of the grand hall finishing the conversation. There, he would rest, and lay in wait, in silence, merely listening to both the voices he heard echoing around him, and the new voices he began hearing echoing in his head, words conjured from hunger-induced hallucinations.

Days flooded into one another, the Dastrix, avoiding the light of day for ages. Months would pass. Even a year, before the skin, scales, and bones of the dusty darastrix would lift himself from his rest. He would work his way to the surface, blinded by even the muted starlight through the cloud cover. Stalking quietly through the underbrush, the under-nourished joints of the darastrix not nearly as quiet as they used to be, and yet, all the same, quiet enough. He would sneak up on his first meal in forever, and set upon it with a ravenous hunger fitting for his kind. He would starve himself no-longer.

A day of hunting, a night of recovery, and Aura would be back on his feet, his old vigor returning to him. He would bound across the lands, patrolling the area around the grand hall, and ensuring it's safety. Traps would be set, and hidden, ready to supply food for the busy days to come. He'd spent long enough wallowing. He'd been left the hall, and now, it was was time to clean it out, old voices and all.