Virva's nose pokes closely at Comadre, and the dragon chirps excitedly, stretching out his own reptilian face to touch hers, while reaching forth with clawed limbs to gently hug her face, assuring that his sharp talons keep from scratching the surface. A strange purring noise rises from his larynx as the dragon coos softly, before attempting the mare's name once more with strange, pointed lips. "Vrrrrahh," he says quietly before tugging away, his attention returned once more to the wolf with a serious glint in his normally playful violet eyes.

The wolf glares downward at his bonded for drawing attention to his oozing wound, giving the dragon all the little black needed to hear in one accusing stare. The small reptile held his ground against the massive hybrid, though, looking up with expectant eyes at the hard eyes of gold, until Virva spoke and broke the tension between them. First, Virva had been worried about the onslaught of the shades, but now her worry was directed right at the stallion, who stood awkwardly with most of his weight on his stronger limbs. His face turns toward her, trying to feign innocence, like he had no idea what she spoke of, what leg? What injury? It was no use, however, as Comadre saw straight through his bonded's plan and takes a sharp talon to poke his swollen leg, causing the hybrid to let out a sharp barking noise from his throat as he turns his face back downward.

"Comadre!" he yells, his gruff voice twisted in an angry tone. The dragon, already chirping mischeviously, flys off to hover over the waves, calling out toward his bonded. Come, Osiris. Salt water in your wound. We'll do as blue lady says. The wolf sighs, aggravated, before turning his attention to the other two who spoke to each other in what seemed like rushed tones of urgency. The hybrid does not like this, the attention being turned to him. The wolf had been traveling for months with an injured leg, there was no cause for alarm now, when Virva obviously needed water and rest. Instead, her energy was being wasted upon him. This simply would not do. "Enough," Osiris says tiredly, golden eyes looking gruffly at the chestnut unicorn.

"Guide her to the river to get fresh water," he says, his tone one of a command, but open enough to sound kind, even with the rough texture of his voice. "Comadre and I have been instructed on what to do about my wound." Osiris turns warm eyes over toward the gray pegasus and speaks to her in a quieter, softer voice. "We will find you in this meadow soon. If we do not meet, Comadre and I will be heading toward the Foothills next to see my family."
""