He aimed a kick at Beezlebub's stomach when he felt the sudden claw grip his wing blade and froze instinctively. This, however, also allowed Beezlebub to gain a tighter grip on his wing and he winced as he felt those sharp claws dig into his flesh, tearing the thin skin of his wings and ripping the ligaments between his delicately made wing structure. He winced as he felt a sharp pain strike up his back, along the centre of his spine. It was like a thousand needles piercing him all at on call over his body. With a sharp intake of breath, Path kicked the older dragon away. His claws stained blue with the white dragon's blood.

 Yes, the white dragons were renowned for their own fearlessness in battle and their powerful body and ferocious bite. They were the warriors of warriors, the kings of the fight, their headstrong nature only outmatched by the red and grey dragons who carried muck more recklessness and ferocity than they. Still, Path had truthfully never been in a real fight with another dragon. He had necked around with the other dragons when he was younger, but that was nothing more than playful teasing and adolescent training. Dueling was a sport among dragons, especially the whites and reds, but Path had never been of age to participate and when he was, the arena and the earth were long wasted away with no one to even challenge. The fight for survival against the mutated beasts of the area had taught him to survive, but hadn't exactly made him an experienced fighter either.

 When Beezlebub was nothing more than human, he pushed him off roughly with a kick of his legs, not caring to be too gentle. Getting up, he wearily watched the now human hydra.

 "You know I do not care for how I do it, as long as I can kill bloodily." The man growled down at Edge, but his eyes held a grudging if not unwanted respect for his king. Stockily accepting the hug, he sneered, "To think the king of hydras dare flock around such filth. There is only so long you can keep believing this is where you belong, Edge. You and I both know, it is only a matter of time till you have to choose and I hope, my king, you shall choose right." He was, perhaps, the few hydras that would dare speak so boldly out to his king. And even more bold towards any other dragon as he turned to face Path, still watching Beezlebub wearily. He laughed, "Such a weak mate you have my king, frankly Charon thinks you can do better. I will look forward to our meeting in the battle. Adieu."

 With that the hydra was gone in the blink of an eye, masked by the smog. Path huffed, then closed his eyes. Sinking back into his smaller form. His back ached horribly like it had been taken out and out back in upside down. And his wings were soaked in blue blood. He very much doubted that a single healing breath of air from Edge would suffice to heal them. Such a brief encounter and yet such a devastating wound....he his his wings, deciding not to cause worry as he walked over to his family.

 Sleipnir stared up at his Father, having mostly done as Daddy said and kept his head down against his shoulder, he felt frightened by the cruelty underlining everyone's words. Staring up at Path with large curious eyes, so much like Edge's, "Is Father alright?" He asked softly, to which Path smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek, then likewise to Skylark as he picked him up, "Yes, Yes, I am fine..let us move on."