Kinkajou hurdled onto the sand and to Anemone, her talons flailing through the thick sand as she beat her wings to stay steady. Anemone wasn't moving.
"Anemone, If you die, I will resurrect you and kill you again." Kinkajou muttered, pumping Anemones chest fervently. Anemone gasped before sitting up in a tangle of limbs and scales, coughing up seawater.
"Please don't kill me." She said woozily, waving a talon in Kinkajou's snout. "Look at meeeee. I'm fineeeee." She slurred, collapsing again. Kinkajou rolled her eyes, threw some water over her head and slapped her a few times for good measure, before checking in Tamarin.
Moon and Turtle fell onto the sand and skidded up to her, as Tamarin began to stir, climbing to her feet. Kinkajou hurriedly tried to shove her back down.
"Rest, you need rest. I'll go and get some fresh water and a pear-actually, maybe some Jasmine is more appropriate-hang tight, we'll take care of you. It's a miracle your still alive, but you need rest-that glitter bomb isn't going to be practical, is it..." she lost her train of thought. Tamarin struggled against her talons  and with a heave threw Kinkajou off, and as she scrabbled in the sand, turned to face her with cold eyes. Moon and Turtle looked up from soothing Anemone.
"Miracles...do happen to the best of us." She rasped.
With a sickening crack, Tamarin rolled her spine up to stand straight over Anemone, eyes glinting with malice and bloodied talons caked with filth, dripping salt and venom. A splash of blood landed on the tip of Anemones snout and rolled down into the sand, and her eyes followed it in horror.
"Miracles...what ever caused me to be blessed with a miracle?" She turned to face them, teeth covered in a web of cracks and snout oozing grime.
Her eyes locked with Kinkajous. Cold eyes, black eyes brimming with anger. She flicked her ears, a left ear with a nick in it, an old one. A distinctive one.
"After all, I'm the very worst, aren't I?"
Below the layers of filth covering her scales, the odd stance and creeping voice, was a dragon clogged with a hunger for vengeance.
"Yes, dear Tamarin is no longer with us."
A hungry smile.
"But I'm...very much alive."
The dragon shook sand off their figure, wiping blood from their talons and wincing as the grime came in contact with the back of their neck.
Patches of grey scales emerged, flaking skin and scars. Salt-clogged gills. Uneven claws.
From the ocean and the sand, a battered but very much alive Pike emerged.

I told you that volcano was valid