[It was inevitable his return to the battlefield would come, though it is unexpected it is not one he rules, nor controls the tides of. To be idle would be to be vile to the core of himself -- and there is nothing for Dion to do in the castle but to continue to dream of his clawed, draconic hands, covered in blood and bile. It hardly matters who it belongs to anymore. His father, or Clive's. Ramuh's, or Terence's.

His own. How he need not dream of his death because he has already experienced it... yet does he relive it now when he sleeps, and oftentimes he is dragging someone else down with him.

Whether guilt or the desire to help has dragged him here, he means to stay until Thorne's forces have retreated in full. They may not be his people, but he has never believed in leaving men behind.]

I suspect something has held them up. If the wildlife in the Badlands is as affected as our local fauna... [It need not be elaborated. They could easily be victims to monsters, either enticed by the bloodshed or the sweeping forces bending mens' thoughts towards the dark.

There is some hesitation before he speaks again; he could fly, to find them easily, but he is still unwilling to do so anywhere Thorne forces may catch wind of his powers. But as a dragoon... those skills are innate, and his alone.] I can spy for them if we should find a high enough perch. Or have you better magicks at your disposal?