The bird may feel fortunate for having crashed here, but the dragon feels it's his own misfortune that lead the flaming creature here. Though the vegetation around his river is green and vibrant at this time of the year, full of life and not quite as susceptible to burning as it may be during the colder months, all it would take is one errant spark that escapes Nam's attention for just a little too long for him to lose everything.

And yet Nam still can't bring himself to force the bird elsewhere. He can't foist the responsibility of tending to the bird's fires on someone else when he's fully able to do it on his own, so long as he remains vigilant, of course. Being a creature of the water, Nam may actually be best suited for the task, even. It would be in the best interest of many for him to not ignore so large a fact.

Nam's brows pull together ever so slightly at the stranger's question before he turns toward his river and idly gestures at it. "My size is comparable to the river, itself. More than large enough, I'm sure, for whatever plan your question seems to be leading to."