"You call her a friend, yet abandon her when her time of need is obvious," a deep baritone voice leeches out from the shadows of the marsh, eerie sounds of squelching as the giant makes his way across the swamp. Dangerously glinting golden eyes peer out from behind thick lashes, a fur clad face greeting the mare known as Tor, one he would formerly have protected at all costs. Upon his back, a sleeping dragon lies, silent yet the rousing of his bonded's voice, along with a flush of red hot anger, begins to flicker delicate obsidian lids open. Bright violet peers out into the crowd, confused at first, but automatically shifting to an excited start as he catches the sight of Ophelia. Muddied by the dead waters, her figure is still undeniably the delicate and beautiful one he knows well.

Osiris comes sloshing through, his large body dwarfing the small filly that he treats with little more than a glance, his main attention staying upon Tor, eyes heavy, face drawn into a deep frown of disapproval. "You have no sense of honor or friendship. The Gray is better without such a hag," they are cutting words, words that would normally not fall from his mouth. Usually, he would have been platonic at her leaving, but the gall of this mare to claim love for the delicate mare of snow while she ignorant of Ophelia's needs was unforgivable. How unsensitive and how ugly. His massive figure of fur caked now in mud and rotting decay comes to slide between Ophelia and those gathered, standing on the small edges of the grassy island in the swamp of the dead. Like a shield from their prying eyes as questions, the wolf horse stands as protection for the mare he had watched grow from a filly. The unkempt manner of her appearance along with the tired lines of her body were enough evidence that she was hurting, that life had gotten hard. Whatever the burden, Osiris would shoulder it for her in these moments, even if she did not remember his name.

The bonds of the heart are stronger than petty things like that. If Ophelia did not remember him, it was just as well he teach her once more who he was. She had never lost her patience with him, and so the wolf would not retire their friendship so early either.

His gaze is hard and heavy, even as the pegasus approaches swiftly to address the mares. Osiris offers a silent nod to the stallion, but does little else. On his back, Comadre stretches like a cat, his claws latching on to the thick fur of the wolf, while his spine arches upward and wings unfurl. Lazy eyes open, and the reptile looks toward Ophelia with a sad but hopeful smile in his purple eyes. "Oooffee?" he coos quietly, prodding the question as if to ask if she recalled his face. The last encounter she had not, but surely she would recognize him now. A toothy grin extends to Tinek, a sheepish wave as the dragon comes to sit neatly.
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