Loved ones.

Osiris was not certain about the title the grulla mare had placed upon Virva, but it felt strange. Immediately, he wanted to bark at her that she was wrong, his lips tugging upwards to actually follow through with this action. Still, something stopped it half way, locked the denial somewhere in his chest. Did he love the pegasus mare? Potentially so, for she was kind and playful, and paid no heed to his differences. Despite his often cold nature, she had managed to become close to him. Did that qualify as love, being close?

The wolf did not know, but certainly something made his heart drop like a stone from his chest when they had not seen her. That feeling, was that the loss of a loved one? The opposite of finding one that you loved? He could not help but wonder.

There was compassion in Ophelia's words, but somehow he could not bring himself to believe them. Virva was a strong mare, despite her smaller stature, but he had not seen even a glimpse of her before the Shades had truly begun to overrun territories. He had not gone looking until the fall of the Woodlands, but they were one of the last herds to topple to the creature of death. Maybe she had escaped from the Islands, flown back the way she had come? He did not look for her. She would not come back. Osiris answers the unicorn filly's musings with a small, saddened smile, hardly worth the effort. Too much had happened today for the hybrid, and already he could feel his nerves slipping.

The talk of the mountains gave the wolf something else to think about, though the grulla mare seemed to know more of them than Ophelia. Smoke, she introduced herself finally, and Osiris nods. "I have heard of you - a former leader of the Oasis." The joke she shed before her introduction touches him, though, and he laughs, an ugly sound. "I think we will have more trouble with the foals causing mischief for them." His golden eyes look warmly toward his wolven family, who had been protecting him endlessly since his injury.

Ophelia asks him the direct question he had feared, whether or not he was coming. The hybrid sighs tiredly, his warm glow leaving his face as he looks to the girl's own dual-toned eyes. They were warm and compassionate, laced with worry, but the wolf could not give her the answer she wanted. "I am never alone, Ophelia," he says, looking toward the dragon still perched on her shoulder. "Comadre will keep me company." The dragon chirps in agreement, though he has been quite distracted, staring at Ophelia's pretty dual colored mane and shiny white coat to pay attention to the conversation completely.

"I would hold up the travel of my family, and I have been a burden enough upon them. Besides, I think warm ocean water would be better than the chilly waters of the north." The hybrd gives her a gentle smile, before turning his attention back toward Smoke. "Forgive me for being rude earlier, Smoke. My family would be quite happy to live within the Foothills, and I will visit them soon." He gives her a gracious nod, before looking toward the female wolf who was calming more by the second.

Little sister, you will be traveling to an area known as the Foothills. I will visit when my leg has been healed, the hybrid says, looking at her with familiar golden eyes. Travel well, brother. We will meet again. The wolves then separate from Osiris, falling in beside the she-wolf and waiting quietly, eyes looking around a bit timidly, not hardly as fierce as they once were.

"Come Comadre," Osiris calls, glancing over at the dragon who pounces from Ophelia's shoulder over to his. The hybrid begins to walk forward, his limp obvious, but otherwise a dignified gait, continuing west toward the shoreline.