Tichondrius watched as the boy walked through the forest. His steps and posture screamed 'rage' to him. His emerald orbs ran over the boy, lingering for a bit on the injury on his shoulder. Tilting his head slightly, he made no other movement. As he sat on the branch, he saw another person, a girl, enter the forest. Tichondrius noticed the girl keeping her distance from the boy, and then mounted her broom, to follow him silently, he presumed. While he would not like to involve himself needlessly, Tichondrius knew that the forest could be dangerous to the unprepared.
Gathering himself, Tichondrius leapt to the neighbouring tree, hung from its branch for a while, then dropped the seven feet to the ground, flexing his body like he had been taught and landing nearly soundlessly on his fours. Pushing himself up, he brushed himself off, and walked around the tree to face the boy. "Hey there. You shouldn't really walk around here. It's dangerous if you can't handle yourself."