Black tar oozed from the orifices on the Czar's face, painting his white blaze darker than even his night-black coat. As he stared down at the tiny creature, so new to this world, and the mother that lay vigil over it, the Dauntless felt light headed. A pounding, throbbing ache numbed his mind and he looked--well, he looked like hell. Loretta whined from her vantage point, worry spread over her canine features. The sickness had not affected her physically, but she felt all the symptoms that raged on Archibald's body and mind. Archibald coughed a racking cough, staining the lush grass and his feathers black with the sticky ooze. Archibald groaned, shaking his body as if to attempt tp rid himself of the sickness with sheer will alone. Instead, he managed only to splatter the ooze every-which direction and move his steel breast collar. Hanging his head once more, golden eyes suddenly went wide with alarm and his head shot up.

So many bodies moved through the forest towards him, towards the colt, that it made him rigid. A protective instinct, a summoning shield of wellness-imitating will made Archibald move between the child and the tiger-painted lady. "You dare trespass here, in the forest of the Dauntless." Archibald growled, his voice low and cold, as he sent his bone-to-stone magic towards Maren. "State your name and purpose here, woman." Archibald commanded, voice suddenly regaining its booming tone that struck with power and authority. The appearance of his brother, the defective colt, made his blood run cold and nearly forget about the woman intruder--but his magic did not lift.

Turning his head towards Knox, Archibald reached down and snapped a cold, warning bite towards his brother's shoulder. "Be silent." He warned. Mikyael was on the scene next. Lifting a brow, Archibald stepped towards the healer. While the Dauntless did not know much about the stag personally, he knew him to be loyal to this herd and his leaders. Nodding his head, Archibald lowered his eyelids over golden irises. Carefully he breathed out. Magic warmed Archibald's core, relieving the pounding of his head bringing his senses back to where they should be. "Thank you, Mikyael."