The Irishman had been lazing about one of Ischia's meadows, grazing and sunning his back. A back permanently pale, but details. Lace was nearby, with her little one, Kali. Precious little thing, she is. So small and delicate. A little gray and lavender flower. Soft and shy. He loves her to pieces, that one. Though he does not wish for the twins to feel left out. He tries to spread attention equally between the three young ones, as well as the new boy Kirby had brought to them to tend. Strong little tyke. Already independent, Badden seemed to prefer solitude over spending much time with the family. Reilly supposes he could understand, for the boy had only recently lost his own family. Accepting another so quickly was perhaps not such an easy task. Today, at least, the creamy red and violet-edged boy remained close. Laying off in some shade not far from Kali and her mother.

He had barely finished lunch, about to go over and interact with the young ones, when his partner emerged from the treeline. The sun bright against the metallic sheen of the man's lavender skin, Kirby's jawline was tight as he approached. Reilly paused at the gleam in those slate eyes. Upon reaching him, the other spoke to him quietly, so as not to let on to the family what he was to say. He told him Kharon was at the southern bank of the island, concerned about strangers on their shores. Reilly frowned. Visitors to the island weren't all that uncommon, and generally were not much cause for concern. However, for Khari to seek help and for Kirby to feel strongly enough to come tell him about it.. Well, it was worth checking into, anyway.

As Kirby turned to leave, Reilly moved to Lacey's side, nuzzling her cheek and letting her know he was going to check on the twins and would be back soon. He then walked over to nuzzle baby Kali and then ruffle Baddie's hair, before he turned south and set off at a brisk pace. Along the way, he mulled over what Kirby had told him. Kharon had to have reached out to the man somehow, telling him what was happening, when Kirby himself had been nowhere around or else could have handled the matter himself. He had thought nothing of it at first, but now, as the broad stallion trotted through the Jungle of their home, he added together the pieces of a puzzle he'd been collecting where the winged lavender boy was concerned. Ah, it makes so much more sense now. How Kali and Khari were so close immediately upon the girl's birth. Why he was always attached to Lacey's side during her pregnancy. Why he sometimes seemed to be staring off into space, 'listening' to things that none of them could hear. Quite the gifted little lad, isn't he? Wings, water-walking, and telepathy. Among the things they know of already. Reilly wonders why he hadn't spoken of it. Least not to anyone except Kirby, and Kali. But it was clear who the boy's father was. Undoubtedly. So, he guesses it's pretty typical. Still, it stings a little. Somewhere deep down. He would have to have a little chat with Kharon, Kylin too. Let them know they could talk to him about anything. He was always here for all of them.

Reaching the southern coast in little time, the red-headed man slowed his pace as he neared the trio of.. children. He was in time to hear first the girl apologizing for intruding. The ocean had brought them. This, he could see, as he looked over the disheveled appearances of both the filly and colt. The colt, whose green and faintly lavender  (really, he'd never realized how much lavender there could be. Was this a son of Kerberos too, then? Or perhaps a child of the late invaders. Ah, that could be just the reason for Kharon's discomfort. That, and the boy's less than charming attitude) coat was battered up, blood mingled in with his mane and a lovely welt on a limb. "The ocean is a thing of its own, that's for sure. Like a moody woman. Sometimes calm and easy, and at others, dark and turbulent. Murderous, even." There is a faint twinkle in his blue-green gaze and a slight smirk on his lips as he speaks, his Irish brogue thick in his words as always. The ocean had had her way with them, for sure. "Lucky for the two o'ya to have wound up on a shore and not dead and lost forever out there. The sea does love her treasures."

Turquoise gaze sweeps over all three foals as the stallion came to a stop near Kharon's side, lingering most on the boy who had named himself Maugrim. There is something in his eyes, in the way he holds himself, the forced easing of his voice when he talks. He could see why Kharon was put off by this one. However, the tide was up currently, risen over the land bridge to the mainland. As it would be for sometime. Reilly takes a breath and cuts through the near-visible wall of tension that had been building upon his arrival. "Azazelle and Maugrim, was it? I'm Reilly. This is Kharon. His father and I run this island." No arrogance, his tone remains matter-of-fact. He passes a knowing glance to the boy he considers his own, expecting him not to like what he was about to say, before looking back to the two castaways. He lets his expression show his sincerity as he speaks. "The tide came in likely when the sea deposited you here. It will be a while before you can safely cross back to the mainland. You are tired, injured. Come and rest a bit. There's a creek not far from here where you can drink and wash up. We just ask you to not try to kill everything here as you do so." A pointed look at the crab still squirming beneath Maugrim's hoof, and then he turns to nudge Kharon and move off to the treeline. Amusedly, he thinks how he could give the solemn boy- Maugrim- a 'chill pill' but he will refrain. For now. He is sure to think clearly, then; how sometimes it is important to show humility, even if it is to someone you don't like. Sometimes rudeness and callous came back to bite you hard in the ass.