Warrior was grazing not far off. Though this place wasn't great for finding gemstones, it was good for a herbivore seeking food: the waters running off in little threads from the Crucible found soil (however foul) in the marsh. A scant few grasses grew along the border; not as much as might flourish at the edges of the river higher up, but he'd no real preference between the two.

His new wings were folded at his back. As wonderful as they were for travel, they weren't perfect for Hydra. He'd survived here long enough as he'd been: a horse. A desert horse, but still just a horse, albeit with magic. The wings were hot. Flying was too taxing in the sweltering heat of day, and too dangerous at night, unless it was out over the open Dunes. They kept him too warm, really, so he was sticking to the shady areas here as much as he could. Now and then he'd raise the wings, letting them air out just a little. And-

What's that? His head came up, nostrils flaring, at a flash of movement somewhere back behind him. He turned, on alert--there. A sandy-colored flash that blended with the desert, darting here and there among the rocks. Warrior tensed. "Are you Greater?" he called out, wary. A Lesser might prove dangerous--he might need to fight. Or put these wings to use, and just fly away. It was nice to have that option, at least.

But he rather hoped he wouldn't have to.

Warrior peered, relaxing as he recognized the inoffensive nature of this one--and switching his mind to puzzle over her response. "The Catalyst?" he asked, at last--then shook his head and neck, mane tangling in that hot breeze. "Greater-... ahh, a speaking Gembound. I am Warrior," he added, with a nod more akin to the toss of his head.

He leaned down, snatching another swatch of dry grass as he began to amble her way--intending to close the gap for a polite conversational distance. But he was in no rush, grazing as he went. "I live here," he told the canine, between mouthfuls. "-in Hydra, not--here, in particular." He lifted his head, glancing about as if to consider what it might be like to live in the Marsh. Unpleasant. Then he looked back at her, curious. "I don't think I've seen you here before?"

Then again, Hydra was... large. He hardly ever saw other inhabitants. And he had no idea, either, where his own child had gone. That had been-... many cycles ago, by now.

He studied her for a moment, pausing close to her, ears pricked at her. It might have been disconcerting, the way his phosphorescent stare fixed on her, unblinking--but Warrior's mind was briefly elsewhere. Ironically not far from here, but distant nonetheless: in the Marsh, yes, but in cycles past. "I know him," he confirmed, at last, his tone carefully neutral. He tried not to think of the Trials, of their deaths. "He runs the Trials of Hydra. Deadly survival tests, out here. I've done a few, but... he doesn't care if the Gembounds in them live or die. And he destroys their gemstones, after. His 'rewards' are..." He hesitated.

He'd gotten wings, yes. And even now he could sense every shiver of the coyote's tiny weight as she moved forward, even the slightest vibration seeming to thud up through his hooves--a gift, he was sure, from the Merchant. Something like the Sandworms had, he thought. But others got... death. Or strange spines, or simply an altered color, as he'd had several times now.

"They're questionable," he settled on. "The only reason I've done the Trials is to try and help others make it through them. I wouldn't suggest helping him willingly, otherwise, but... if you want help, Hydra can be a dangerous place. I can guide you." He thought, for a moment, running his mind over all she'd said. "A new cave? Do you know anything about it?" He'd never seen a tunnel in the Dunes--indeed, couldn't imagine one somehow existing. Surely the sand would simply slide down and fill it?

There was something else he'd been working on, as well. His head came up, and he pressed his magic outward. It was similar to what he'd learned to try and sense a creature's presence, but it searched for the magic, instead. That being said, he couldn't really tell what it was that he was sensing--just that it was magical, somehow.

After a moment he plodded off, following a spark in his senses. "Here," he offered, making his way over to a crevice a hundred yards or so away. A long walk--but it'd give Coyote time to answer. He used a hoof to paw at the dirt, and leaned down just as the magic faded, using his teeth to pull a little, rough and dusty hunk of Uvarovite from the shadows behind a boulder. It'd be sparkling green once cleaned, but for now it was a dull and dirty brown.

Dreamer? Sleeper? ...'Snake guy?' He mulled this over, but he couldn't remember anyone who might have fit that description. Or any of the titles, either. "I'll come back with you, if you don't mind. See it for myself." If there was a whole new cave opening in his home, he'd want to know what it was. If it was dangerous.

He stepped back, allowing the canine to take the stone. "It's magic. That is--I use magic. The stone is, too," he explained. "But the magic can find... well, it resonates, I suppose. Finds the 'vibration' that magic gives off. How many things do you need?" he asked her.

Hmm. Warrior weighed, in his mind, the ethics of helping the Masked Merchant. The creature's tyrannical--or at least coldly empty--disregard for life had never struck him as a good thing, one worthy of supporting. Or even ethical to support. But if others were already going to... 'catalyze' this anyway, whatever it might be, surely it wouldn't hurt to ask for a reward-? "I'm not sure what I'd ask for," he admitted, but shrugged. "I'll see if I can find some more things for us, anyway."

Not too far off he sensed the faintest spark, and he headed off that way at an unhurried pace. Hydra wasn't a good place to rush through, anyway; the Merchant might claim it to be 'less dangerous' now but Warrior wasn't going to start taking any chances. He took his time, ears swivelling this way and that, gaze scouring the landscape for any signs of danger. There was nothing, though, and soon enough he was pawing at another object in the dust.

"Here," he said at last, moving aside when he realized it was too small for him to uncover without damaging it. It was a small chip of Prasiolite, another green gemstone--from something very small, or maybe even a Lesser, he thought. "Its magic's weak, but it's there."