I don't fear your wounded pride, I don't fear your cruelty, do you believe it matters compared to her? Though his expression does not change, the sentiment holds true. Let Gilgamesh try it. Let Gilgamesh carry his threat through. Dorian holds Hermione's safety, her protection, her well-being above all else.

He sets his arm around Hermione's shoulder and helps pull her up. He doesn't let go. And he tries very hard not to look at what is around them, although the image will be set on his mind forever. "We'll look into it later. Gilgamesh is right."

Dorian whistles, that three-note call that asks for Íde to come down from where she lingers, and he guide Hermione back onto the path, away from Adela's hanging corpse. Down swoops the mist creature, a breath of fresh air and water, glistening in the sunlight. She comes as if out of another world. Dorian suggests that Hermione mount first, and Dorian will ride behind her, so that Hermione does not have to grip with that injured shoulder.