Legend Of The Guardians

Soren: Wait. Is that your mark?

Ezylryb: What, this? Yes.

Soren: So.. You wrote the Chronicle of the Battle of the Ice Claws.

Ezylryb: I think so.
Well, actually, yes. I did.

Soren: Were you there?

Ezylryb: Yes.

Soren: What, as a-a scribe?

Ezylryb: Um.. Well, no. As a soldier.
As the, I guess you could say, leader of all the soldiers.

Soren: You're Lyze of Kiel..

Ezylryb: Um.. Yes.

Soren: You are Lyze of Kiel..

Ezylryb: Yes. Don't wear it out.

Soren: But..
*looks at his abandoned metal claws*

Ezylryb: What, that old thing? That's only good for gathering coals now.

Soren: Yeah, but why go by Ezylryb?

Ezylryb: All the owls of the tree know who I am.

Soren: But you're..

Ezylryb: My days as Lyze are well behind me.. And that battle is a distant memory.
Except, funnily enough, for young owlets like you.

Soren: Why didn't you tell me..?

Ezylryb: *gets frustrated* What difference does it make what I call myself?!

Soren: Because Lyze of Kiel was my hero.

Ezylryb: Yes, well, fancy it must be hard meeting your hero, and seeing that he's real and not a myth.

Soren: You're just not...

Ezylryb: *speaks ferociously* What did you expect?!
Some Tyto Alba with gleaming armor and battle claws, the moon rising behind him?!
Well, this is what it looks like when you've actually fought in battle.
It's not glorious. It's not beautiful. And it's not even heroic! It's merely doing what's right.
And doing it again, and again. Even if someday, you'll look like this!

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Legend Of The Guardians