Exploring had always been something that pulled at Loretta's heartstrings, guiding her paws far ahead of her bonded behemoth. Archibald moved like a leviathan behind her, nevertheless, large head lowered with ears twitching, heavily feathered hooves crunching hard snow beneath them. Loretta snapped and bound through trees, her tail curled over her back as she joyfully plundered through the powdery snow beneath the winter-sleeping canopy. Light filtered down to flicker over her pelt, the morning rays a misty yellow to dance between naked branches and ancient twigs. The bitch continuously sent imaged to the king behind her, scouting for him. They were coming to a place foreign to Archibald, despite his years of dwelling in the Helovian borders, and his guard was up. Loretta was excited about this new found treasure, Archibald was cautious. There had been unspeakable amounts of dangerous activity here in these lands, so drenched and saturated in the magic of the Gods and demons alike, and the ex-general did not know what could be lurking around the corner...wraiths, shades--it could be anything.

The pair's clashing emotions of joy and skepticism halted when the mammoth draft stepped from between the trees to join Loretta's side. Before them stood a massive creation. The only structure that Archibald could compare it to was the manor that the Tome Guardian of Isilme had dwelled, but that was nothing compared to the beauty of this fabrication. The light glittered off of the many hued ceiling, cavorting with the stone-grey of the solid columns. This place was new, and wondrous. The Dauntless took several steps forward and scented the building, Loretta trotted around the left of the structure that had so abrasively agitated her rollick. As the malamute set her front right paw on her third stride, she turned and caught the sight of a unicorn stabbing water. The splash grabbed Archibald's attention as well and, together, the pair decided that any life here would be able to answer questions about the architecture behind them. Gathering at Loretta's side, the war-torn partners moved towards the unicorn. 'Wolf. No. Hellhound.' Loretta noted, amber eyes targeting in on the stark black of the sun bathing hound. Her hackles rose slightly and her tail straightened in the air behind her, the sight of her dominant posture a familiar memory in the Dauntless' golden gaze.

As they closed the distance between themselves Archibald examined the unicorn. He has stark black, as dark as the own pelt of the warlord, but his color was interrupted by a tattooing of bronze over one appendage. The same bronze painted the end of every hair that grew from the stallion, reminded him of the blood red color of Ophelia's tips. Less than Ophelia and more like Gaucho the stallion was built, however, strength dignified in each crevice of sinew. Archibald was a brick house, a hurricane of force and power, but this stallion before him would also pack a punch, and have a higher rate of speed over the thickness of the Dauntless.

It was after his initial, normal examination that a memory sparked in the warlord's mind. He had seen this brute on the battlefield of the Qian invasion, falling victim to the fury of lady Mirage in her dragon form. What felt like a lifetime ago once again came to life in the draft's mind, and Loretta barked to alert their approach. Archibald wondered if Ulrik--was that his name?--would attack him on sight for being a hand in taking away his home, or if he would even remember the draft now that he was covered in the scar of battle and dragon fire. Blinking and stopping, just yards from the edge of the lake, the kingly stallion spoke, "What is this place?" His question was simple and he only wanted a simple answer. Loretta, however, fed off of the small trigger of tension from the memory of the battle she was far too young to fight in, and locked her eyes on the younger canine. It was black like Manhattan, but much different in build. It was a hellhound, too, bound by magic of demons. Silently, her white lips curled back to expose off-white fangs, deadly and ready to strike, a warning to the pup.






[WC: 708 | PC: 0/3 | Yay!!!!!!]