Nature's great masterpiece : an elephant ; the only harmless great thing.

He had walked, slowly and dispassionately away from the Veins of the Gods. His heavy form lumbering as he unwilling had parted ways from his white, spotted friend. He had not wished to leave the broken man— but it was not up to him to heal that shattered soul. He could not, even if he tried. That was a feat of time, circumstance, and soul-searching. None of which he could provide. And hovering over Mauja all hours of the day would do nothing but irritate and alienate a friend he sorely needed (either it was Tembovu needed Mauja, or Mauja needing Tembovu. The friendship was necessary).

Because, though his own loss was not nearly as earth-shattering as his friends, he felt it rippling through the crevices in his soul as he walked back over the grassy land toward the Edge. Focusing on another’s hurt had allowed him to ignore his own pains.

But now, that he was alone, they resurface with a vengeance. The used, torn look on the gilded princess’s face as he had left her, unable to conquer his demons which shouted their glee at such a scene. Roughly he shook his head, massive hooves stomping harder as they tore clods of soil from the earth. His walk turned to a trot, then a ground-covering lope. Exercise (exhaustion) perhaps would silence these manipulative beast he harbored.

His pace quickly left darkened patches of sweat on his thick neck and flexing haunches. It, also, quickly brought him to the pillared building he had passed by before. He slowed, his muscles asking shouting for a reprieve from his aerobic workout. He was not truly built for stamina, he was built for strength and power.

As he slowed his pounding hooves to inspect the crumbling structure, a flash of metallic caught his eye. Large head whipped towards the flash, finding a tall, slender pegasus— with an impressive horn sprouting from her brow. A hybrid then (and his thoughts immediately soured as Caleb comes to mind). But this mare is to interesting, too unique, to allow such a callow man to taint her.

Nostrils slightly flaring from his exertions, and sweat still patching his buckskin hide in dark browns, he slowly approaches the grazing, winged mare. Taking note of the somewhat sour expression on her strong-featured, yet delicate, face, his ears black-rimmed ears perk towards her.

“Hello there, shimmering woman,” a slight smile crosses his thick lips as he glances to the her glimmering sides, “What turns your face bitter?” He grasps at the distraction of his own woes, dark blue eyes studying her multi-colored ones.