The Deep Forest was rather haunting and miserable most days, so d’Artagnan had decided, but today was different for some reason. The shade watched Aramis with interest as the hound crept through the woodland as if something was going to jump out at him. "What is it?" The Doctor asked, his voice almost sounded like he was complaining and quite bored of waiting for the dog to give some sort of clue as to why he was acting in a such a way. "I don’t know. No life. Not natural" the hellion growled back and the shade frowned, not at all satisfied with the answer. Though the further they travelled the more d’Artagnan began to understand what his bonded meant. As he went along he tried to describe it to himself with difficulty. It was almost as if the woodland was in mourning, either that, or something foul had frightened even the trees. From memory he remembered his travels here, the place had always appeared to hold some ancient history and was scarred by what must have been a wild past. The trees themselves bared old marks and the streams sometimes appeared red. What on earth could silence a forest like that? A forest that held onto its wicked history and made sure all those who passed through felt a little of it.

An opening appears, but not the normal kind like a river passing through, no this was more like something rather large had fallen. "This is wrong. Turn back" Aramis’ snapped into his friend’s mind and d’Artagnan, intrigued, shook his head. "I want to know what it is" he responded as he continued walking and the hellhound fell behind him a little. "Don’t be a fool" the hound knew there was nothing he could say, but the foreboding in his natural instincts made his paws waver. The Doctor was stubborn born and wisdom would do well to touch him, he often wandered into bad situations out of some nosy desire and, most of the time, he regretted it later. So with his same old defiant head he kept moving forward and ignored the plea of his bonded, who warily followed behind.

Soon it was clear to see what had made such a mess and d’Artagnan quickly found he was cursing himself. A dragon! A bloody big one at that too.

Of those gathered he recognized one instantly. He was bigger, more grown up and less coltish than when he’d last saw him. His dark fur and silver accents reminded him of her, the temptress of the night. There wasn’t much about Mesec that was, well, d’Artagnan. Except perhaps his build, his physical makeup was much like the rest of the Nightshade’s brood. A great bellow cut off his thoughts and he stood back, the impact plants the Doctor firmly in his place as he feels a flash of fear. Disgruntled, he stood off to one side and watched the four who lingered near the injured beast whilst Aramis stood ready... Ready to flee that is.

The dog was not quite feeling a fight with a dragon that big.