He looks up as the scent of pegasus wafts into his keen nostrils, ears flickering towards the sound of her approach. She is spattered with blueness, and even Volterra's untrained eye can recognise prettiness when he sees it. He is about to speak, to enquire about her curious markings, when suddenly she turns away as though disgusted by the sight of him. The colt's pride blisters and his ears flap backwards, mouth downturning grumpily. Mirroring his movements - as they are still so new to their bond that they struggle to untwine their strongest emotions - Vérzés gives a particularly violent slash of his claws and shreds the plant apart that he's meant to be digging up. "What's wrong, miss?" asks the beastling. Maybe he smelled bad? But surely not - he had a bath like a couple of weeks ago.

He is not alone with grumpy-mare for long, though. Another pegasus arrives, and this one seems far more complimentary towards the little titan. Little fighter. He likes it. He inflates like a courting bird, ears unfurling and mouth uncreasing...until he realises Shadow is not addressing him, but another colt, the younger one-winged boy from Cheska's meeting. A stuck balloon, he deflates, pout returning back to position. Am I invisible to this dumb bimbos?

Hmmph, mares.

The numbers continue to increase - next comes the spotted stallion he remembers from the murder he witnessed. He tenses slightly, stepping in front of Vérzés to shield to dragon from any advances by the blue-horned man, remembering how he had struck out towards Abraham's white and knowing full well that Vérzés is not yet trained enough to avoid any such attacks. Finally a familiar face joins them, that of Nymeria, and Vérzés gives a caw of delight at the sight of big brother. That is what the black is to him; he is too young to understand colour hierarchy, all he cares about is the fact Lilómiel is older and more experienced and bonded to someone Volterra adores. Serpentine neck extends upwards towards the hovering black, crimson snout aiming to touch, to sniff. The blood-dragon is as centred on touch as his bonded is, another piece of their individual personalities interwoven with one another.

Nymeria's words elicit a rumbling chuckle from the colt. "Anything to keep him occupied. I fear he will eat through the entire rodent population if I leave him to his own devices." Yes, Vérzés has proven to be quite the hunter, and Volterra has forgotten the last time he awoke without the half-torn carcass of some unfortunate animal upon his withers. The dragon's focus on blood is promising for the future, though, so the beastling does not object.

Others continue to arrive, and the black beastling shifts uncomfortably. So much babble around him - his side seeks out his sister's, the one crumb of familiarity amongst the crowd. He wants to protect her from any advances by the gathered hoards, tail twitching uncomfortably against his thighs as he waits for Vérzés to finish his task so they can leave this heaving throng behind.