Glory had not, in fact, left his cave. Actually, he hadn't step foot outside since the day before. He had what he needed - a stash of food and water set for himself when he felt like staying in and working. Seeing the eagle step from his cave maybe once a day was, really, fairly normal Glory behavior.
It had been oddly quiet, though, in the last few hours - no hammering, no scraping, just soft rustling from the wide cave that marked Glory's home and workstation. He was sitting in his nest, talons and beak working through bits of leather that he was stitching together - all from the nearby tunnel, cleaned and polished to be reused in his work. He'd heard Dread outside, and voices, but he hadn't paid it any heed. If they wanted or needed him, they would come for him.
He paused, however, when, at last, a voice called his name. He didn't really want to get up, he was quite comfortable sitting here just working, but he thought that he should give them the courtesy of an answer and his presence. This was why he didn't get out much - why talk when you could just work and make art?
He set down his leather and got to his feet, joints aching from being in the same position for the last countless hours. He hobbled to the mouth of the cave, steps growing more comfortable as he went, and stepped outside, giving his wings a small stretch to chase out the ache (and, also, to show off his magnificent feathers), before his attention fell on the child.
She was about as tall as him, standing up straight, and her appearance was so surprising to him, that, at first, he said nothing. It wasn't her body, really - he was, after all, good friends with a dragon. He'd seen Naskital and his sled, and he'd fought Svarog as a child. Perhaps nothing would surprise him anymore. No, the thing that was surprising was what she was wearing. He'd made armor before, but not with cloth. With plates. Metal plates. This didn't look like it would protect against blows at all. Why was she wearing it if not for protection.
He quickly regathered himself, though, and stood taller, his head raised. "I am Glory," he announced, although a small shadow passed across his face when she called him "Dread's friend". Was that all he was known as? A dragon's friend? "And who are you? A friend of Dread as well?"