It's Hereditary

It was time that he finally made some modifications to his father's armor. The earthen Ancora had passed his prized possession down to him before he passed on to the otherworld, and Grimoire had freed the possession from the cave that had been taken over by a bear sometime just before joining the Armada. After much-needed consideration, Grimoire finally decided he was going to use the armor and wear it proudly as his father once had. The leather armor had no eye holes. His father didn't need them considering he had been blind. But Grimoire? He needed to make some, on top of adding some more modifications for his horns to fit as well as restore the old, aged leather.

He carefully pulled the fur-wrapped leather from his den in the Col and carried it out to the main courtyard so he could have better light and more room to work. After all, the torches and firepit he had made in his cavern den only provided so much, and the work he intended to do would need steady paws and a careful eye lest he ruined it on accident. And that was something he simply could not do. He gathered up some more materials that he needed and added those next to the leather, then he unwrapped it and carefully laid it out. He looked at it for a long moment, a large paw carefully tracing the dragon embossed in the face of it all.