Vander stumbled back as the stranger leaped to his feet, his breaths still coming far too quickly to be comfortable. His legs ached and his back hurt, and he was sore all over from hitting the water. And he was tired. Tired of fighting with this man, of the stress that twisted his stomach like a damp dish towel, of the helplessness he felt when faced with the taller, more aggressive rider. Throwing the gun was his way of trying to get a handle on the situation, to wrest control out of the other man's hands and into his own.

Apparently, it didn't help.

His eyes narrowed as the stranger before him gestured, and a movement behind caught his attention. He cursed inwardly again. He'd forgotten about the dragon. How could he forget a dragon? He watched as it limped across the sand, noting the injury and the odd tilt of its head. So it hadn't escaped unscathed, either.

His gaze jerked back to his aggressor, adrenaline and the barest beginnings of panic seeping into his system. Before had been somewhat less terrifying, less intimate, he hadn't been pinned between two dragons with nothing but his knife, with which he had minimal skill, to defend him. But now as the man discussed eating Rune, he couldn't help but imagine his beautiful dragon stretched over a butcher's block, carmine scales dulled with blood and death.

His hands fell to his sides, not in defeat, but in fists. His mind ran a mile a minute as he tried to formulate a reply, his fingernails digging into his palms. "You couldn't even shoot him." He replied, his voice somewhat quieted by fear, but his words sharpened into the cruelest Vander could make them. He tried to phrase it like the inability to puncture Rune's scales had been this stranger's own shortcoming, not one of the pistol or dragon. Perhaps he could play on this man's ego. "What makes you think you could carve him up? His scales are impenetrable."

They were tough, perhaps, but not the perfect armor. Rune had several soft spots through which he could be spitted. His throat was loose and rather like alligator skin, as were his armpits. And, of course, any dragon could be killed through the mouth or eyes. He shook his head slightly to rid it of these thoughts, uncomfortable with the image of his dragon roasting over an open fire. His sandy, damp hair fell over an eye, and in the moment it distracted him this stranger had stepped into his space.

He stepped back on instinct, allowing the taller man to force him back until his bare heel met with Rune's warm scales. The dragon let out a low, guttural rumble, and Vander reached a hand back towards the beast as if to steady himself, finding comfort in the natural heat. For a moment he toyed with whipping out his knife; they were close enough for him to gut the stranger if he caught him enough by surprise, but that didn't sit right with Vander, either. The decision weighed in his gut like a sharp stone, so that no matter which way he turned it his fingers pricked and bled.
He wished Rune were healthy, so he could drive this stranger and his dragon away. But he would have to make do, and protect Rune while he was at it. So he employed all he had that would leave at least the stranger physically unscathed: his words.

He straightened up, and though he did not step into the other man's space, the movement brought them slightly closer. "What are you gonna do with the dragon?" He snapped, gesturing to Rune. His words came faster now, sharper, though his heart still hammered in his chest. "Roll him around so you could build a nice fire somewhere? Carve him up and use him as shelter? You couldn't even shoot the damn thing!" He reiterated, and he felt Rune's offense to his words.

He threw his hands up as if exasperated, acting out emotions he was far from feeling in a desperate attempt to take the situation back. "Or maybe build him a little prison out of sand, hm? But don't take on any projects that are too big, your dragon doesn't seem too fit, either." As the adrenaline wore off his fists shook at his sides. But against all intelligent thought, he continued.

"Oh, I know! You feed me to my dragon," He jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards Rune. "Give it a few days, and then eat him. Extra calories, and problem solved! And maybe, you'll even absorb some of my skills." Now Vander was trying to sell himself as useful, indispensable, even. His tone changed from sharp and biting to something softer, though still crueler than comfort for Vander.

"Like fishing, a near encyclopedic knowledge of tropical flora and fauna," He knew how to fish. An encyclopedic knowledge he certainly did not have. But he figured he could fake it. What's the worst that could happen: this stranger gets poisoned and dies? Problem solved. "And I'm sure it's flattery but I've also been called inventive," He put a finger down, as if counting off for each item on the list. "creative, reliable, and, of course," He leveled his gaze to Bill as if his last words were a threat. "I don't forget easily."