Finir followed Boris intently, for they both knew they cared for the dragon maiden deeply and perhaps even with equal fervor. The azure dragon leaped with a stomp to a crawler's head into the air as he extended his wings out of his back so he could keep up with Boris, following him eastward bound.
A few fliers harassed the dragon's tail from behind, appearing out of shifting trees, nooks, and alleyways in droves. Finir didn't intend to fall behind, so he twisted himself around with another large rune circle animating in front of his mouth, blasting frigid air at the hellish horde of bird creatures. Most of them squawked and shrieked before being frozen and petrified plummeting to the ground as they shattered to bits one by one. With that done, Finir continued his course.
When the azure dragon arrived at the destination, Boris seemed to fling a bloodied bear at his other comrade, which sent it flying back into a ruined menagerie. Finir announced himself to Cecily with a roar as he dive-bombed toward the stunned bear, gaping it's mouth in confusion. Emitting an ice sharp around his left gauntlet, the azure dragon thrust the point into the gaping maw of the bear, bursting through the back of its neck and slamming into the menagerie. The blood gushed out on both ends and flooded the bear's throat and esophagus, but it was surely dead; no way of drowning now.
Finir looked back to Boris first, then saw a Cecily in her marred condition.
"Cecily!!" Panicked, the azure dragon ran on all fours toward the injured dragon. He called her name once more, but in his own musical language, emitting a cry that sounded a high tone, then trilled downward. The azure dragon came upon her, his large body seemingly dominant over hers as she lay as delicate and defenseless as an injured lamb is to a hunting, confident wolf.
Finir delicately placed one claw to the dragon maiden's cheek and caressed it, his maw quivering. He knew that she wouldn't die; surely, she would live, but the azure dragon couldn't shake the fact that he was not around to protect Cecily from such dangers, even if she could hold her own. He thought perhaps that none of this would have happened to her if either he or Boris would have been around.
"Cecily..." he said again, tenderly licking her cheek to distract from pain. His own pain - his failure - overtook him in the form of two watering oranges, his brow lifted toward the sky in despair.
"Words cannot express how deeply regretful I feel to have overlooked your own safety..."
Pinkie Pool's archnemesis: Oatmeal.