There is a delicious irony to this situation, and it is not lost on Volterra. He suggested trial by combat; look what he's received!

Things seem to explode, volcanic, from nowhere. First there's simple simmering embers from the aftermath of the herd meeting, and now there's fire consuming all in its path. From peace grows chaos. From a seemingly resolved situation grows a whole world of unrest, and Volterra finds himself at its centre.

The reaction to him in the meeting had been vociferous and unanimous. Sunjata's support meant the world to the blackened leviathan, but it wasn't enough. Sikeax herself promoted a woman who'd failed at leadership before (but was, alas, popular) to rule alongside her, and the young pegasus Tae turned his efforts in the Threshold against him. Everything he's done, everything he has tried to build here, has crumbled to dust. He remains loyal to a leader and a friend that nobody else does - he stands alone in his defense of Sikeax, and a baying pack of wolves snap and bark at his heels for his perceived sins. They do not focus on what he does do, such as recruitment, only on what he doesn't; they ignore the fact that he attempted to bring warriors into their ranks because his existing ones stood idle, and they ignore the fact that none of them sought him out either.

Volterra is not sensitive enough to let their dislike of him upset him, but he would be lying if he was to say it hadn't played a part. He is wingless, unknown, unwanted. They haven't trusted him from the start, and thus his postion is untenable. He is at the eye of a storm not of his creation, and he thinks that even if he had been an exemplary Gladiator to them, they would still not have accepted him. He is not, and will never be, one of their own.

For a herd that proclaims itself a family, they are awfully quick to condemn their brother.

It becomes clearer and clearer that this is not a herd Volterra wants any part of. He is not blameless, of course he isn't, but the denizens of the Throat are all too quick to pick on his failings and all too slow to pick up on theirs.

A voice he recognises as Aithniel calls out for Sikeax, and despite everything, despite how his faith in the champagne mare is shaken, he is about to go and answer for her. He is about to choose her in the most obvious way possible, by fighting for her against one of his other lovers. He is about to forsake his senses and be her Gladiator, her champion, her friend.

Then another voice joins hers, and the stallion's gut gives an ominous twist. It is the voice of Tae, and she wants his rank. Fuck. The beast stands, torn, ears spinning wildly between the two challenges. Does he fight for a rank he doesn't want, or for a Sultana who appears to have forsaken him?

For the first time in his life, Volterra thinks about running. He thinks of closing his ears to the shouts of coward that would undoubtedly follow him, and simply becoming the rat who flees a sinking ship. For a moment - one beautiful moment - he genuinely contemplates it.

Until he comes to his senses. Then, his fragment of doubt is smothered beneath a tidal wave of fury, a roiling blast of wrath that engulfs him like a storm cloud.

The sand thunders beneath his hooves as he canters towards the girl, the enemy, before grinding to a skidding halt about fifteen feet in front of her. She'd intrigued him during their first meeting, then frustrated him during their last. She is a child of the old regime, and she embodies every bit of animosity shown towards Volterra during his two seasons in the Throat. "You've got balls, I'll give you that," he growls, his ears flattening against his scalp. Profuse levels of sweat already bead his powerful frame and his mane hangs in tattered strands down his damp neck, but if anything it only enhances his fearsome air. He's wild-looking, a tower of muscle and raw masculinity, stood between the dunes of his not-home. He is dragonless for now; they've been hunting, but they're coming.

The leviathan stands stoic and fixes the girl with his cold crimson gaze. "Your move."

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@Tae !

0/4 - 747 words

Vol is wearing his leg-guards and horseshoes, but not his skull mask.