Not looking behind him, Osiris's golden eyes stayed upon Tor's face as it were magnetized. He could feel the tension of Ophelia's breathing, hear it as she shuddered with effort, but dare not look back in case her resolve would collapse down upon seeing his face. All she needed was a sturdy beacon to keep her grounded, lest she fall to pieces upon the floor. As he speaks, Comadre uncurls with a happy expression, waiting for the wolf to grow quiet before prodding Ophelia carefully to test her memory. The sound of his name on her lips causes the dragon to coo ecstatically, leaping from his wolf's back to land upon Ophelia's back, hugging her neck the best he could with his tiny arms, and then proceeding to crawl up to where Tinek sat. As the mare says her thanks, Osiris turns to look at her, a small smile on his lips, relief in his eyes. There had been far too many doubts in his heart since that day in the Foothills. Whatever had caused her amnesia was gone, but Osiris had a feeling it was the very same thing that had broken her heart.

Finally, the draft speaks in quiet words that would have marked remorse, if she had been strong enough to own up to her mistakes. Instead, she throws the blame upon the white mare at his back, and his ears pin back more in annoyance. What a selfish bitch, he thinks to himself. Blaming Ophelia for not visiting, when it was apparent that this white and gray mare had legs well enough to see out the girl with mismatched eyes. What other lame excuses would she hide behind? There were none that would allow her to escape the hard look of disapproval from the wolf. He had found a family with the Gray, finding acceptance. He would protect its members, even if that meant protecting them from each other. "Your excuses will find no purchase here," he says, before the draft slips by to discard an amulet at the cloven hooves of Ophelia.

As if Ophelia were the kind that would take from a friend.

He growls, much like a dog, but does little else as the mare turns tail and runs. Irritated, grumpy, and altogether upset with the maltreatment of his longest friend, Osiris takes a long breath. The stallion speaks up, chipper in tone, to the wolf. Feral eyes trace lines to look at him, as he mentions the boggart. Vaguely, the wolf recalled a pegasus on the field that day. However, he was not aware that it was a competition. His frown does not disappear, but perhaps increases a little, as he look at the stallion. "I was only there to protect a friend," his voice nonchalant, unlike the darkened and cutting baritone used on Tor. "As you see, I have no need for additional company." Sheepishly, Comadre looks up from Ophelia's neck, smiling a strange little toothy grin and waving at Levi as he introduces himself.

"I remember him," the dragon says cheerfully. Osiris looks up toward the dragon with falsely annoyed eyes. "I figured as much." His words are directed only at the reptile to whom he speaks, but hardly quiet. The wolf had never been fond of using their mental connection to speak, and only recently had used it to call out to the dragon during their fight with the boggart.

Levi's offer of aid was unexpected, but the wolf does not even acknowledge the look directed toward him. Instead, he simply remains quiet, uncertain if prodding were the appropriate measure to take with Ophelia. She seemed delicate, like a snowflake, and he was afraid any touch would cause her to fall apart. He could offer his own help to her, convince Ophelia that he would listen to her woes, but the wolf felt that it was rather unnecessary. He had just finished protecting her from the barrage of friendly fire; what more could he do?
""