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"DJIMON!" Despair consumed the mare as she watched Reth make off with her son into the air--where neither she nor Haides could've gone to retrieve him. And then Stryker once again swooped in to rescue her precious foal. Making a decision of her own, she struggled to her feet. "Cairbre... can you stay with them?" she asked softly, letting Haides come over to support her. "I need to... get Djimon..." It had to be her. Djimon would respond best to his mother, especially being scared from being snatched first by Reth and then by Stryker. She didn't wait for a reply; she just stumbled towards where Stryker had landed. She all but collapsed by the downed flyer, gently nudging her son so that he was upright. "It's ok, Djimon," she soothed. "Mama's here..." Beta felt terribly weak, but also immensely relieved. She lifted her head to look at her hovering brother. "Dee, could you ask Mila to..."

Haides nodded before she even finished. "I'll see if they can't bring some medical assistance with them," he replied. It was the least he could do for failing to protect her children. Then he turned and galloped back to where his own mate and children were. He wasn't that worried about Reth coming back; the stallion was injured and had already flown off; he wouldn't come back at least until he was healed.

Beta smiled weakly at Stryker, her turquoise eyes brimming with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered softly to him, then lowered her head to nuzzle the son she'd almost lost.

Cairbre had never been so afraid in his life. But when Reth began his menacing stalk upon Beta and her babies, he felt a growl tear itself from his throat and he planted himself in front of them, figuring that he could at the very least distract the angry alicorn enough for Haides to help Beta chivy the blankets out of the danger zone. Perhaps he could blind the other stallion with a flash from his glows. Much to his surprise, Stryker slammed out of nowhere into Reth's side. As they rolled, Haides threw himself forward into the fight. Knowing himself useless in that mess, Cairbre stayed back. But faster than thought, it seemed, Reth was in front of them, grabbing a blanket! Wasting no time cursing himself for letting Djimon out far enough to be grabbed, he slammed a leg into the dirt, barely missing the corner of blanket he'd been aiming for. But miss he did. With his heart in his throat, he wondered if his little glow wings could keep up with Reth's huge dragon wings, knowing he'd have to try. The only thing stopping him was Beta's breathless plea as she ran past to grab her son. He let out a sigh and leaned down, nuzzling the upset blankets as reassuringly as he could. "Don't worry, babies. We're safe now." He looked off in the distance Reth had disappeared into, and then to where Beta stood over Stryker and Djimon. "And it looks like we've got a new friend, too."

Stryker gave a snort of relief. He wasn't sure he could last a while out by himself. Eventually, he'd probably have gone back to Reth or find Shamira and his foals. But he was glad to be given some sort of purpose again. The stallion gave a snort standing up gingerly. The wound on his side started to clot, but it felt stiff. He took a sideways glance and noticed that it would definitely scar. Oh well. He turned back to Beta and lowered himself again showing he'd help her up. "Miss Beta, I believe we should head back to your family now." The stallion offered a warm grin, ears flicking in the direction of where he heard the noise of one of her foals. He then lowered his head and nosed Djimon who simply grunted and squeaked in response. "Beta, I don't know how you can do it...raising these four. You'll be the best mother I know."

Cairbre smiled when Delta moved closer to him. Carefully moving his legs around so none of them would lay over any of the blankets, he maneuvered himself to the ground. Epsilon took the opportunity to snuggle close as well, wanting to be close to the reassuring warmth. Cairbre smiled even more, feeling uncommonly warm inside. Was this what true parents felt like? If so, no wonder so many wanted to try it. He knew it'd happen one day for him, that there would be children of his blood, but he also knew he'd try to treat these wonderful, trusting, beautiful children just the same. He thought of a song his father used to sing to his brother and him, and sang softly, "Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye; four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie. When the pie was opened, they all began to sing. Now, wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the King?"