Wisdom? No, Evrae didn't consider himself particularly wise. It was hard to gain experience and knowledge of the world when you were a mindless, hatred-driven dragon, even if you had a whole millennium to do it in, or if you didn't spend that whole time caged. He didn't say of that to the sorceress, though. It wasn't her business. "Who needs wisdom? We're here to fight, not to share philosophy," the former wyrm mumbled, scowling as Ultimecia's magic fixed his movie sphere projector just as he was tinkering with it. He didn't say thank you or even look up as she walked away to go about whatever it was she had planned, but once she was gone, he set the device on the floor in front of him (after removing the sphere, of course), slammed his heel down on it a few times to thoroughly break it, and picked it back up to begin repairing the damage he had just caused. "She's wasting her time. That man's already dead. I made something to chase after him and kill him," he muttered, focusing intently on his repairs. It was anyone's guess whether he was talking to Gabranth, who he had barely acknowledged up to this point, or if he was just talking to himself.