Quasar trotted on the beach, his paws kicking up clouds of sand and leaving a messy trail in his wake. Despite the chilly breeze rolling off the ocean, the sparkledoggo pranced without a care for the winter cold. His eyesore of a fluffy coat kept the chill off, even if it did fuck up his stealth and drew far too many irritating comments—especially from outsiders.

He stopped in front of the wheezing hybrid, his blue eyes narrowed. Even if the stranger looked in a bad way—and had a cough that sounded like shit—the apprentice remained on guard. Even so, he desired to help. Most strangers to Palm Glades never raised a paw to hurt any one, so Quasar had started to think of himself as, perhaps, a touch paranoid.

“Yo, Fishbait, you look like an orca pod chewed you up and spat you out on our shore.” His nose crinkled. “And you smell like it, too.”

Each of the canine’s three tails flicked behind him. Red. Then purple. And, lastly, green. He stood in front of the stranger, clearly blocking his way, and didn’t intend on budging. After all, the stranger’s health hovered right around “shitty but miraculously conscious,” and the dude probably shouldn’t be moving around too much anyway. The sparkledoggo sighed as he finished appraising the other’s beat up body.

”Name’s Quasar. I live here, obviously, with the rest of my group. We’re the Palm Glades, if you weren’t aware, and you’ll probably want to stick around. Even if it’s just so Vaas can look over your health. Since, like I already said, you look like fishbait, Fishbait.”

Quasar lunged forward too slow to assist the hybrid before he fell into the ground. The sparkledoggo’s brow furrowed deeper with each word the stranger spoke; he glanced at Medusa, as though validating the truth of his reality. Quasar’d seen joiners in bad shape and confrontational bullies show up at their borders before, but not a washed up glowy-boy like the finned hybrid.

Nosing the other’s face, Quasar murmured and tried to keep the other awake. “Hey, hey, stay awake.” Quasar pulled a waterskin off his shoulder and pawed at the bioluminescent hybrid to force him to hold it. “You need some fluids and food, probably, not to mention the all clear from Vaas before you take a nap.”

Honestly, Quasar had no idea if what he said made any sense, but he guessed dehydration definitely fucked this guy over. And if he passed out, well, then getting fluids in him would be almost impossible. Hence his I’m-not-a-medic-but-here logic. “Uh, Medusa, maybe we need Vaas right now? He looks real bad. And smells even worse up close.”

[member=16248]VAAS .[/member]

Sorbet was certainly a new sight, as well as a worrying one. The kid wasn't the first injured stranger that the Glades had seen arrive on their shores, but he was certainly one of the worse ones. It was because of this that Rhine had a worried look on his face as he approached, the serval's tail lashing behind him. He only caught the I'm sorry from Sorbet before the other collapsed onto the ground, looking dangerously close to passing out entirely. Looking between Medusa and Quasar, the legate found himself questioning, "How long has it been since you found him...? He looks... in a bad way, to put it nicely." Certainly more nicely than Quasar was putting it, anyways. Either way, Rhinestone moved in even closer, gently nudging his head against Sorbet's shoulder. Despite the other seeming young, the size difference between him and those gathered around wasn't insignificant, and that represented a bit of a problem. It would be easier for Vaas if they could get Sorbet closer to him, but considering the circumstances... would they even be able to get him to the boardwalk den?

Turning back towards Quasar and Medusa, he questioned them once again, one blue paw pointing down at the nearly unconscious newcomer, "Do you think that the both of you would be able to help me move him? If we can get him towards the boardwalk, Vaas can work on him more easily." Even though Rhine knew Vaas to not go wandering around the territory without at least a few herbs on him, being closer to his base would be much easier. Plus, there was no telling of how many injuries Sorbet had truly sustained. Although it was clear that the other wasn't doing well, Rhinestone was hardly a trained medic, and he couldn't tell what internal injuries the other may have had. If they were truly that bad, then it would be good to get him to Vaas's den as soon as possible, so that he'd have somewhere to comfortably rest. Not only that, but also somewhere that he could comfortably be questioned at, as well. Not that the legate really thought that the young hybrid was a threat, but he was curious about Sorbet's story.

She gasped gently as Sorbet fell, moving toward him with a sudden and urgent speed. "hey.. hey kid, stay awake for us. Try and drink something. Just try and stay awake, or I'll smack you on the nose with my paw." She was only half joking - if Sorbet fell and passed out she wouldn't hesitate to smack him on the nose with a paw. With a small flame on the paw. She turned to Quasar, going to answer before Rhine showed up. "We just now spotted him. Quasar got here first, though."

She turned her attention back to Sorbet, moving to try and hold his body up from underneath him. "I think we can help him, but someone has to tell Vaas that he's gonna be having some company." She muttered, "Stay with us, you pretty hybrid."

“Yo, Dadorito, glad you’re here. Yeah, I’d help move him, but this mofo is massive. Might be faster—and cause the mofo less pain—if one of us sprints to Vaas and brings the medicus  to the beach. And some muscle to move him, maybe.” As he talked, Quasar assisted with the waterskin slipping out of the hybrid’s paws, big bulky blobs caked in sand and blood, abrasive and sticky. His two favorite things. The sparkledoggo’s nose crinkled. “Yeah. Like Medusa said, found him a hot minute before you. The dude was standing, looking better from a distance. No, don’t mean pretty like Medusa said.”

Quasar looked over his shoulder at Medusa, green tail rhythmically flicking and breaking his sightline. “Hope you’re joking. Doubt this mofo needs to add burns to his injuries list.” Nah, the primus had jested, but the kid needed a distraction from all this serious shit.

“Fuck. This would be one occasion I’d kill for wings or that fancy fart magic. Air elementals. Whatever.” He gave up on the water skin, left it between the stranger’s paws, and grimaced. He titled his head to the right, popped his neck, to the left, popped that side. “Aight, Dadorito, say the word and I’ll run off to the boardwalk. Let’s not squabble ‘bout it. I’m the species here most adapted at distance running, so I’ll bust my ass for the stranger.”