Fetch! Yes, Warlord!

He came back on the scene to what could have been a cute picture if the girl hadn't moved his patient's head without checking with him first.

He scowled at her with his viridian eyes, now she had to stay there to make sure Basilisk was breathing, or at least hope his head wasn't severed from his neck with the blow from the bear and subsequent propping up.
"You shouldn't have moved him, but now you have to stay put until I tell you to move." He grumbled sourly.

He huffed and then turned to the Warlord. "Bas? What's going on, can you tell me anything?" Were his stitches torn? Did he have a headache? He gently lifted the eyelids of his cousin to peer into those fierce blue eyes. Were his pupils regular-sized?