To the red dragon's considerable surprise, the wolf pup doesn't submit, cower, or run. He stands his ground, and the ruby's feral eyes narrow. Admirable, if stupid. "Is nom?" Vérzés questions hopefully, tilting his head from side to side and considering the whelp like it's a tasty morsel ripe for devouring. No, comes the stallion's stern command. You will not eat it. Terrorize it, dominate it, but don't kill it. Vérzés deflates slightly, miffed, but quickly redoubles his effort to take the wolf's catch instead. He draws himself up higher, flaring his wings and breathing gently out of his nostrils so that the air in front of him shimmers and turns to ice. Angling his snout - whilst never taking his eyes off the wolf - he huffs a small blast of frost breath onto a nearby flower, turning it into an ice sculpture version of itself. With a swipe of a paw, the dragon shatters the frozen bloom into a thousand pieces, and continues to glare greedily at the wolf. Even if Volterra wasn't mentally bonded to the creature, he'd be able to tell what Vérzés was saying - give up the kill, or that'll happen to you.

Vadir watches the red's futile attempts to dominate the wolf, snorting her derision and choosing instead to lazily preen her wings. One of her calibre hasn't the time for such petty, childish games, and she studiously turns her back on the scene as though the mere sight of Vérzés' antics offends her royal sensibilities.

Volterra, meanwhile, has his attention fully on the filly. She seems to acknowledge him as her superior, without submitting fully - well, she certainly has spunk, he'll give her that, and he raises an eyebrow that can't be seen beneath Gashad's skull. His savage gaze lingers on her as she solidifies, becomes real again, and he marvels at the magic she possesses. It could be useful in battle, if she can become a spirit; a fine, if sneaky, way to avoid an opponent's attacks by making them go right through her. He is unaware, of course, that she only appears translucent, but remains solid.

Why not both? Well, isn't she a creepy little madam? "Why indeed." He smirks, and the skull shifts slightly on his face. The damnable thing might lend him a terrifying air, but it's as uncomfortable as shit, forever chafing the skin on his face and making him sweat horribly. He doesn't try too hard to remove it, though, for fear it will take half his face with it. It can stay where it is for now - it certainly adds to his menacing appearance, and keeps the water out of his eyes when it rains.

When she observes that he has two dragons, he can't help the lurch of pleasure in his heart. He will never get tired of hearing that. Yes, he has two, and isn't it just the best feeling in the world? Vadir is basically a scaled extension of his dick, although she gives an outraged caw at this notion. "I do," he rumbles, almost cheerily. Do you rule a herd? Again he offers a wolfish smirk, half-visible beneath the skull. "Not yet." Oh, he has nefarious plots and plans coming out of his ears, but whilst he might be arrogant he is not so much so that he thinks he could take a herd at his tender age - he is still relatively green on the battlefield, and certainly lacks the maturity to wear a crown. Perhaps in a year, or two years, his day will come, but for now he's content to train and fight and fuck his way through his youth without responsibility. "Your magic is rather impressive, I must say. Who are your parents?" Skulled face, dark magic, wolf companion...she could easily be from Confutatis' side of the family, and whilst that would be damned shame as it'd make her off-limits for any future pursuits, it would make her a worthy ally.