There was a youthful excitement that spun through the young stallion as he moved with his herd through the dead of the night. The vigor wound and unwound him, casting his steps high and his sights higher, neck proudly arched on its mantle of muscle. This was not just about the fight though, although that certainly mattered to him, his tongue still folding on itself in memory of Saffron's red tar - this was about purpose. It didn't matter that this time Öde was just a war machine, a virgin sword ready to plunge into its first blood (so to speak), because eventually it would be him leading the charge, him taking the land, him gripping the throne.

He grinned, the malice of it glinting in the low-light of the waning darkness.

Unlike so many of those around him, Öde hadn't the emotional baggage of relationships to wear him down, like rust on a fine blade, nor personal investment in the outcome. He only marched because there was a march at all. With every thrum of his heart, so too did his hooves pass over the leaves and the dirt, singing out their promise of hurt. He was alive with the electrical pulse of their unit, pushed along by the blossoming shadows of his lord, the moon-less sky an omen of his good, albeit dark, fortune.

"Oblivion," he murmured with hushed breaths, volume unnecessary to the eternal abyss that was damnation and desecration. "This world is bathed in your color, but let me be awash in your favored; let me stand red when this dawn ends, crowned by victory in the blood of my foes." Red eyes were sealed beneath black lids as Öde whispered his prayers. "Demonking, Demonking, Demonking..." he chanted, eyes flashing open wide as a terrible sensation of hunger roves inside of him, gnawing its way forward with each haunted word Öde murmured.

He felt it now, the blood lust. It comforted him, like a pacifier, because it was family, and it was faith.

In response the Demonking walked boldly through the heavens, spilling the color of war through the horizon, just as they arrived at the rocky outcrops of their destination. Öde was so giddy his foreleg pawed restlessly at the stones, head tossed back and forth in an anxious attempt to peer at the traitor from his place in the back. There was a momentary pause, but then they were moving forward again, climbing, sneaking. Having grown well accustomed to the icy and mountainous terrain of their home, this grass-grown rubble was hardly arduous, though a leg did slip free once as footing gave way. Snorting arrogantly, Öde kicked in earnest at another rock before trekking on.

Then they waited, hushed and hung on the command that came to life in an instant which seemed to follow an eternity. The group broke, horns and cries raised to the horse flesh caught in their sights. Öde paused for a moment, bewildered by the sight of the absolute barbarism which these otherwise civilized lots unfurled at a meager signal. This was the power of war; a drum which beat inside everyone, pulling and pushing the blood which governed the bodies and the thrones.

Laughing, Öde pursued the heels of his comrades after his momentary delay, tossing out a buck in pure ecstasy and energy. He swerved past some already clashing monuments of horseflesh, opting to instead single out his own foe - he wasn't very good at sharing. Wicked gaze snapped towards DRÖM, and its taint seeped into a sneer against the boy's face. The most simple of horses around, so ordinary her coat even blended in with the dirt of her home. He would annihilate her.

Thrusting himself forward, faster, Öde galloped towards the small, plain Jane, his neck bowed with strength and three horns. Öde was poised to barrel straight into DRÖM, coming from behind on her right side, angled more perpendicular than parallel. His blades sought her hide, and with a strength he was certain her frame couldn't match, he intended to tear his head up, possibly eviscerating her from the point of her right stifle to her spine. He might slip on one of her intestines as it spilled out of her gut, but that was a risk he was willing to take.

---

W: 732/800

:: [Magic: DarkxLight (P) | able to live forever, though all pain is still felt and a killing blow will cause unconsciousness for several days as the body recovers]
:: [Restrictions | Wounds heal quickly if they are surface and slowly if they are deeper, and can be killed by complete decapitation only; upon recovering from an injury the scars are left and in moonlight the wounds are revealed as new; during a full and new moon they are felt as fresh.]
:: [Magic: DarkxLight | the magical abilities of characters fail to work within his vicinity.]
:: [Restrictions | Limited to a maximum radius of 30 ft; Ode cannot bond to a companion while in the possession of this magic]

--- ÖDE follows OPHELIA who is leading the Basin troops up from the SOUTH-WEST into a secret entrance. OXY is leading them.

--- THRANDUIL is with ARCHIBALD looking like MIDAS.
--- The Basin troops FLANK the falls from the back at SUNSET, the sun is setting in the WEST so it is at their LEFT and BACK.

--- ÖDE attacks DRÖM by coming behind, on her right. He aims to ram into her and use his three horns in an upward slice from her right stifle to her spine.