He hated this feeling.

It was deep, unsettling sense of foreboding. It rattled his very spine, shook his resolve, tested his nerves. The General scoured the borders of his lands, but it was not the borders he so meticulously patrolled that were in trouble. It was Something deeper, something more, heartfelt.

It was unusual for him to abandon his patrol. But with a harsh, short word thrown at a fellow warrior, that was just what he did. He flew, north, and west, hard and fast. He needed to find her. The ache in his heart was screaming at him, propelling him forward, faster, faster.

Not fast enough.

A loud, thunderous call echoed across the beach, as the stallion saw the remnants of what had been happening. And amongst it all, he saw the rounding frame of his beloved, the beautiful starbreather whom had stolen his heart. "Cass!" his call was desperately made as he landed roughly onto the sand, his limbs scrambling like a newborn colts to find purchase and push him onwards. Certainly not the smoothest of transitions from flight to land-roaming, but effective in delivering him to the scene nonetheless.

Two others were nearby, equine, he saw. One mentioned healing, the other asking a question that also plagued Azzuen. Her wing! He groaned with sympathetic grief at her plight, not even hesitating now to extend his magic out to her. "I'm going to numb the pain Cass, but you'll still feel pressure where it is sore." His deep voice rumbled, barely acknowledging the others as the stallion for once remained calm in a situation that usually sent him into a panic. He was growing wiser in his ways, slowly but surely.

With some concentration he focussed his magic on her, throwing it over her entire bodice, finding the trillions of electrical stimulations that triggered painful sensations and simply, shutting them off. It was so simple for him, with his affinity for electricity, like his brother. It was a magic he had been born with, a magic he was proud could aid others, especially in times like these.

"Your wing, my dear. I don’t think Onni will hear my call from here." Abruptly, the stallion turned his crown to fish around his own wing, extracting from the great mass of feathers a strong, well-built spear with a fine, silver arrowhead. He looked at the mare who claimed herself a healer. "If this will help secure her wing so that she might make the journey home, please use it." He looked at the young colt also present, and saw a goodness within him. He sighed a small sigh, before nodding to the buck who had been here when he himself had not.

"Thank you for your aid, young soldier. The Throat could use one like yourself."