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The titanic yearling grazes gently, his muscular neck lowered as his teeth eagerly rip chunks of grass from the ground. He is weaned now, no longer reliant on his dam's milk, which is just as well given she is stolen. He misses her so damn much, but at least his survival is no longer dependent on her. One day he will get her back, but he continues his training in her stead. He grows daily, each hard line of his body bulking and strengthening through sheer force of will and his delightful draft heritage. The first trickles of testosterone have stripped puppy fat away, devoured it, and he is beginning to resemble the man he will become. Through his mind goes the occasional flash of blood and spasm of delight. Vérzés is off hunting, and he revels in it - sometimes Volterra thinks he enjoys the hunt more than he enjoys actually eating what he kills. It is strange for the leviathan to be alone without his red shadow, but he knows the slightest mental twitch and the dragon will return in an instant. It does them good to spend time apart occasionally, and Volterra somewhat enjoys the peaceful silence that comes without his bonded's voracious cawing and snarling. It is the sound of morning birdsong that grabs the yearling's attention, and his head snaps up from his grazing. He is drawn, his long stride drawing him towards the sound, towards the very familiar figure of a giant man with wings and ram's horns. "Earth God," comes the colt's rumbled greeting, his feral crimson eyes lingering on the diety and wondering what brings him to the mortal plane. Last time they met Volterra was awed, and there's still a tint of respect in his gaze as he looks upon the God of the Earth. _______________ MY FATHER CONQUERED SEAS BUT WAS NOT THERE FOR ME |
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
