The freezing dragon roared in direction of where the old tree had stood, presumably conveying something unfriendly to him considering the first action it had taken, only then did it turn to Loimos, the beast and undead staring at one another, the winged one moving it to the side, inspecting the skeleton intently.
Recognising him from back then, tilting its head, puffing cold fog from its nostrils, looking off into the distance and back at the undead, reaching a swift understanding as to what he was up to, roaring, the cold intensified brutally, the sound of its mighty vocalisation carrying a deadly frost along with it.
The two horses pulling Loimos around went stiff, pulled into the caravan by nasty tentacles of decay along side the undead himself, his transport, compressing into a smaller size, growing bony legs, some sort of sphere, their sudden appearance pushing itself off the ground, effectively avoiding the one-hit KO that was this roar.
