[Thrall, too, misses his comrades. His advisors. He has Vol'jin, here, but they do not always tread the same path. Vol'jin has his own life and Thrall has his.]

It is a quiet, serene place even with the sound of trade. It is a place of reflection for me.

[He's never seen Dia self-conscious, but then he mentions the arm. Makes sense. Thrall smiles encouragingly.] I am no great artist, but I can lend you my arm if you'd like. I carved the charms on my spear mostly as a matter of tradition rather than... creativity. [If he did anything artistic it'd probably be writing. That's really it.]