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Mercy cocked an eyebrow at the tiny faes change of mood. "I swear, you're harder to predict sometimes than she is." she said, cocking her head towards Dredia, who was, at that time, aiming her teeth at Shays hand. It almost made her laugh, but it did manage to get her to crack a grin. You'd think she'd have learned not to get that close to her teeth after the last time.
"I'll need something easier to work in than this dress then." She said, as she slid off Dredia. The clothes on her body shifted, seams coming undone and restitching themselves. Once the base outfit had been done, the dyes themselves shifted, altering their hues ever so slightly as to let other colors dominate the garment.
And now that I'm warmed up... She thought, leaning down and dragging her hand over the grass. The grass itself seemed to unravel, breaking apart and joining with what used to be other blades. Soon enough, a long naturally made bandage lay on what was now a bare patch of ground.
"This should be enough, correct?" Mercy asked, a serious expression adorning her face as she picked it up and moved to her saddle bags. From this, she pulled a small vial of purple antiseptic, a needle, and, of course, some thin strong thread. These she wrapped in the bandage while she followed Shay over to the man.
"Might as well sit down boyo. Doesn't look like your have much of a choice in this." She said wryly, gesturing for him to get down off the horse.

Meanwhile, Dredia had moved away as soon as Mercy had removed her tools. She had no want or need to watch her rider stitch up someone again. She'd already seen time and time again the unimaginable amounts of blood these humanoids tended to carry in them. She didn't need to see it again. Instead, she moved over to Zuzana, deciding she might need her for 'moral support' or something of the like. Besides, there was a reborn here, how often did she get to see that?

The fairy spread his own wings and followed Astalder into the air. He kept pace with the dragon with some difficulty but did not call for him to slow down or show any other sign of strain. The forest continued as far as the eye could see, broken only here and there by patches of rocky hillside where tree roots could not find enough soil. One of the hillsides was dotted with some buildings, a Bound village belonging to the local clan. There were large shapes moving about that could only be dragons.

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The fae prince nodded in one terse move and sheathed his sword. He unbuckled the belt and lay it aside, stripping off his tunic. There was a chain mail shirt under it, the rings broken where the bolts had hit. It had to have been a crossbow, for it to pierce the armor as it had. Or perhaps enchanted arrows. It was hard to tell with fae. He struggled with getting it off and not aggravating his wound, and when he finally dropped it he was panting.

"Ruscar!" he called to the reborn, "Stand watch."

Kocerou then unlaced the gambeson and finally, bare-chested, sat down cross-legged with back straight and let Shay look at the wounds. They were serious but survivable. The prince of the fae had remarkable power as well, and could recover from what would be a fatal injury for a mortal.

"The forest is dying," he told Shay, "Already the roots of the trees stink of rot and the leaves are shriveling and dying. It is not even the rightful death of winter, but the blight that heralds the end of an age. I must take the throne."

Zuzana glanced sidelong towards Dredia when she approached, the ice queen not at all melting despite the proximity to someone she actually considered a friend. The only display of affection she currently showed under the gaze of strangers was to faintly shift her weight as to lean ever so slightly more towards her brown companion. Not much of a display for most, but for this prude dragoness, it was a rather big deal.

Still towards the Reborn she gave no wisp of kindness, though was enough of a diplomat (unlike her bonded) to bow her head in greeting upon hearing his name. His answer she accepted without any visual qualm. "I am Zuzana, bonded to the redheaded fae, Shaylee. Beside me is Dredia, her bonded is the human, Mercy." As she mentioned each individual her head bobbed in gesture to them before her gaze returned to settle upon Ruscar. "Allow me to ask what brings you here, Ruscar?" She was quite intrigued, to say the least, for in her eyes he possessed traits of other fae, yet his response... Not that she knew much of the Reborn, still. Curiosity was very much getting the better of her here.

Shay in turn had half-skipped back towards Kocerou after hearing Mercy's general agreement to help, crouching down in a spot that would both enable her to inspect the man's wounds herself and still remain out of the healer's way. Yet as he began to strip, the wild girl felt color heating up her cheeks, focusing for a moment on how Mercy formed the bandages until the blush subsided and she could return to the matter at hand.

A big matter, apparently.

Her green eyes narrowed as he spoke, head piecing together this new information as she stared beyond the group towards the fae forest. "Take it that's also doublin' as your explanation as to why you're all beat up?" Again she looked to the prince, giving a snort and a single raised brow. "Still though. Why are you out here? Alone? Shouldn't you have a-" She paused, lips pursing a bit as she stared at the three dragons she'd found him with. "A... formal escort wherever you go?" For once, she was actually trying to be polite about it. Usually she would have just ran headfirst into her thoughts on the matter.

"If you're concerned for my dignity, it is noted and appreciated," Kocerou replied dryly, "But I am not the king yet and I do not have princess to be concerned about either. I can take some liberties still."

He stared straight ahead, hands curled into tight fists as he fought to show no pain.

"Go thee hence, dragons, if you do not wish for trouble. Go far north and pray to your gods that the blight that takes the forest of the fae does not spread to your lands." He slid his gaze off of Target and Bullseye and back to Shay. "Those loyal to the crown were scattered. My best were cut down. Before you lay a hand on me, girl, I must know..."

The prince moved much faster than he had let on, leaping to his feet as if he hadn't been wounded at all. He caught for one of Shay's wrists with one hand, the other drawing the knife at his belt and readying it to strike at her throat.

((I'm not going to automatically assume Kocerou gets the jump on her))

Shay gave a light hearted shrug, grinning like a cocky fool for a moment. "Pardon for expectin' people to want to coddle their lil' prince." Despite how it might sound, she meant no ill will towards him or any other of her kind. At his comment of being single however, she gave a snort and another once-over. "With your shinning personality?" Though given the rather grim circumstances in which they spoke... "I'm sure they'll be banging at your door in no time."

For a moment she stared at the black and white dragons, noting their equal lack of formalities as almost parallel to her own. And, to be honest, was quite unsure as to what to make of that. "Wounded don't move too fast if they ain't patched up," she pointed out to -Target was it?- lightly. Again the prince began to speak, though it was not until he began to bluntly address her did she look to him, brow snapping down into a confused furrow at his choice of words.

A roar ripped through the air, silver and purple a blur as Zuzana began to tare her way towards the would-be fight. Her attention had remained on the three other dragons, though Shay's side of the mental link flicked in quiet alarm made her blink. Mercy's shout, along with Dredia's own commentary, made her finally turn to see what was going on. And she didn't exactly approve of the situation.

The speed in which he moved probably shouldn't have shocked her. The fact he caught hold of one of her wrists, however, was the last sign she needed. Her free hand reached to the ground, the control over her Glamor slipping as she found a small rock nestled into the thick forest floor. Grasping that, her magic surged, whipping it up to block the knife. Not as a little rock though, rather, a long bow, constructed completely out of hard gray stone with various glowing markings embedded into it.

Pupil-less green eyes surrounded by black stared up coldy at Kocerou, a low hiss of annoyance creeping up from her throat. "Don't," came her smooth order to Mercy and Zuzana, the dragon skidding to a halt a few feet from them, silver eyes narrowed in obvious furry. Purple and brown wings twitched upon Shay's back, the material of her shirt torn. Not indecently so, at least not by her standards, but it was something she took note of in the back of her head.

"Fine way to treat an ally, Prince Kocerou." She gave another snort. "If I was one of those chasin' you, why the hell would I have bothered to ask Mercy to help you? You're injured. It's easier to just take you out now rather than patch you up, if that was my intent. I ain't a threat to your life or throne." Quite amazing what a battle can do to sober someone up. Fairy eyes flickered to the cloth mage, before nodding to her now rather ruined attire. "Merc, mind givin' me a hand? Wardrobe malfunction here."

It was rather easy for Uritai to find the prince since he was being stalled, purposely or not. "My Prince. I was not able to distract them longer." She was not smiling as was her usualy way. Things were far too bad for that. Falinor glanced at the little group but said nothing to the other dragons.