Chimera Fields Drawn beyond the lines of reason

The scene he happened upon was not the sort he wanted to see; Dirge bristled with the anticipation of something far worse, though it was trying very hard to conclude itself just as swiftly as it began. It was the leviathan brute in the middle of it all that carried a tarnished silver tongue and just as Arcturus had, Dirge saw through it keenly. A sneer split his features as they made to exit stage right, but the flash of teeth was there and gone.

"How convenient," he murmured quietly, but there would be no chase.

His gaze lingered in the wake they made in their departure for a spell, only broken when Arcturus made for the she-wolf where she stayed sprawled and not moving. The churlish words off his lips earned a turn of his ear to be caught on another passing note—Jarilo, lurking—and he closed in the distance almost too casually for the situation in a slow, curious manner.

The rise of her chest was faint, but at least she wasn't dead. Not yet, anyway.

The feeble explanation only summarized what he needed to know—he called for @Lyra.

That particular head of the Cerberus he knew had some know-how of healing, but whether or not she would hear them was another matter. If she wasn't in charge of a certain quartet of would-be tyrants and knaves, there was no telling what she did in her off time. He didn't track her nearly like he did Hydra, nor did he possess much more than a basic sense of how to tend to his own wounds. These certainly did not fit that bill, not at a cursory glance.

His gaze rested on Arcturus then.

"Can you tell how bad it is? If Lyra does not come, perhaps we could move her somewhere safer."