Gaucho, had never ventured to the Endless Blue before - he never had a reason to. And yet the great God of the Sun had gifted him a task - to spread the word of the Fire Lord to one and all. For a creature like Gaucho, you must realize, that this was a nearly insurmountable task. While many inhabitants of Helovia thought the massive bay to be slow of wit and stupid, this was actually quite far from the truth. Behind the primitive warrior's blue-gray gaze, an instinctive and complicated mind was at work - it is simply the case, that his mind does not work quite like yours does. And so, many leave Gaucho to his duties of defending the Throat, for that is what he was clearly made to do.

On this day however, as his patrol had ended early, Gaucho flies west, towards the setting sun. His dark body is outlined against the horizon, as he veers towards the water. He can see his reflection on it's surface, as he flies along the coast, and he is amused by this. Comforted, to know that he is not alone, for the face of his father, and his fathers fathers, are watching over him - you can see them, just below the waves. Gaucho knows that when our bodies no longer draw in air, that they are sent back into the heavens, and the Earth, but that apart of us stays - held captive - within the soils on which we walked.

While the eloquence of this was lost on Gaucho, he still understood but could not communicate these thoughts, much less those of the Sun God. Raising his steely gaze, he spied a shape, lit by the blooming moon, standing on the shorelines. Tossing his antlered brow, Gaucho dipped lower, skimming the waters now, as he bridged the distance between the two. Eyes narrowed, he took in her lithe and slender shape as he landed a few feet down the beach - beating his massive black wings to slow his descent, and gently place himself on the sands.

Grunting, the primitively-marked stallion moves towards her - eying her antlers with interest. They are so like his own...and he wonders if hers are magically affixed to her brow, or if she is indeed a unicorn. Halting a few feet away, Gaucho folds his large wings to his flanks, his nose twitching as he inhales her scent, which likewise causes the bone piercing his nose to dance a bit. She is not of the Throat...that much is clear, but on neutral grounds, her affiliation to other herds is not on top of mind. "I Gaucho." He offers, for he has learned that it is customary and polite even, to introduce yourself. His voice is rich and resonant as he speaks, yet it is apparent that he isn't used to speaking, or at least not in long sentences.