There are old tales about monsters that lurk in the shadows, waiting to feed upon the innocent and ruin the lives of all who may be deemed good. As a creature who resides in the darkness, clinging to the familiar curve of the shade, Osiris can only refute the statement. The beastly appearance that makes others shy away in fear houses a heart of earnest, though there are few aside from the reptile clinging annoyingly to his fur that would speak highly of the creature. One of such few is the mare standing at the forefront of this gathering, dressed in drapes of lovely, pure white with hints of crimson.

From the vantage of the shadows, the wolf watches as they crawl out of the woodwork and wriggle like worms into attention. His golden eyes, feral and distrusting, are constantly falling across the scene of swirling movement and excitement. The figures of bodies that lurch into the clearing like thieves from a burglary, but there is something true about their thieving steps that resonants in the chest of the great beast of the dark. Delicate and beautiful, Ophelia's voice shudders forth into the clearing, speaking rather quietly, but not quiet enough to avoid the ears of the wolf and dragon on his back. Had it not been for a harsh warning prior to their hidden prying, Comadre would likely have flown forward to greet the mare with a childish, serrated grin. Now, he listens intently to her words as does the wolf, the pair standing outside looking in on the meeting, vascillating on whether they should step forward into the dim light of the forest.

The stallion at her side was tall, dark, but appeared amiable. The paint mare which had rushed forward was definitely a friend instead of foe, the way she greeted the pale mare with familiarity. The next to arrive, a mare dipped in black, was so similar to Ophelia in appearance the wolf had no doubt they were siblings. He was reminded immediately of the first time he had met the pale girl, before the she had greyed so long ago in the caves of Isilme. A gruffer yet distinctly feminine voice introduces the other young mare as Ktulu, and Comadre and Osiris exchange a glances as she speaks of the Grey. His wondering thoughts did not linger for long as a shady figure approaches next, his gait arrogant and his soul darkened as it reflected from his eyes. The words spit from his mouth were disrespectful and impatient, and they make Osiris's ears flicker back to his skull in annoyance.

It is at this moment that a massive paw reaches out from behind the tree, the hybrid shuffling from his hiding place and out into the small clearing, where a dim ray of light cascades to the forest ground enough to illuminate the faces of those present. His own, much like a mask fit for a beast, looks even more nightmarish with the shadows that do not fully cloak the distorted appearance. Canine ears flip forward again, not wishing to be mistaken for a foe in this field of misfits. "You spoke of the Grey," he says, baritone voice reaching out over the crowd and toward Ophelia and Ktulu. "I desire to know the cause of such a thing." His golden eyes linger on Ophelia's soft face before looking at her darker sibling.

The rest who come into the area while he speaks are noted absently by Comadre, who, in sensing the serious mood of his bonded, remains uncharacteristically still on the back of the wolf. His violet eyes smile yet as they look at Ophelia, though, and a small chirp lurches out of his throat and into the air surrounding the two.
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