He planned to leave right away after the taking of Confutatis.

He has had what he came for - her beneath him, his spawn in her belly. It is past time he left this stunted place and headed back to his empire, leaving the vampire queen to care for their child, as was a woman's duty. Yet, something keeps him. The desire to see with his own eyes what his and Confutatis' exertions had produced, the urge to witness their offspring being forced forth unto this land in a scream of blood and glory. He has hungered for this moment since he first met the queen of bones, and it is not something that is likely to occur again. Best to remain, to enjoy it, to savour the pain that their pleasure has created and see with his own eyes what comes of it. Colt or filly? Magic or plain? Skull upon the face, or teardrop between the eyes? No, he will not miss it, and so he sent Cynder back to his herd outside Helovia, to inform his second in command that their worshipped king will be gone longer than expected. They can cope without him for a few months, and they know he will return with haste as soon as he sees his foal's safe passage into life.

He has no intention whatsoever of socialising with the foul Helovians, the mongrels and the equines that live so freely among them. He remains alone with only his green war-dragon for company, eating and sleeping in blissful solitude. It is the first time since his nomadic youth that he has spent so much time alone, and he finds it rather pleasing. When he leads his herd he is constantly alert, having to keep his mares in line and regularly put young colts in their place to prevent any threat of an attempted overthrow. Rarely does he get time simply with himself, with his thoughts, with the sweet grass beneath his feet and the jade reptile at his side, so he is savouring every passing day. Soon he will return to the chaos of herd life, but until then, he will enjoy spending time with himself and with Cynder.

But there's something different about today - something in the air, and a bellow of surprise leaves him as, suddenly, a cloud forms beneath his feathered feet. "What the....!" The expletive is smothered by a whoosh as he is lifted and taken, Cynder releasing a surprised squawk from her perch between his ears. Together they are flown away, his struggling futile against the cloud that holds his feet like cement. Finally it slows and he is deposited like a sack of shit, anger bubbling in his chest as he glares at the offending cloud. He finds himself reaching into the part of him that used to once contain his magic, only to remember it is long since gone.

With another death glare at the innocently fluffy cloud, he begins to walk. He is not alone; there are others here, and the stallion's ears pin grumpily, disturbing Cynder who slumbers between them. Awoken - having slumbered during their trek on the cloud, clearly unpeturbed - she gives a small hiss and bats at one of his flattened ears with a clawed foot, sending a sting through the behemoth's body. He barely notices, so engrossed is he in what the other Helovians seem so taken by. A turtle of all things, but one that is far from ordinary - his curiosity gets the better of him and he steps closer, tail waving between muscular thighs as he draws to a halt a short distance away, slate gaze narrowed suspiciously on the foreign object. It is covered in bells, and seems to be the centre of attention for these other Helovians. With a huff he backs away - if it wants to talk with him, he'll be right over here a safe distance away from the scum, before he catches horrible-mongrel-pegasus-unicorn-itis.