Tallsun days such as these caused Toulouse to believe that he was not made of fire and fury like his desert-born bretheren seemed to be. For one who was built to run endlessly over dunes in the most dry and hottest of deserts, who by birthright was fashioned to withsand great pressure on his limbs and heart, Toulouse was most certainly not coping with todays heat. The Basin was more than miserable on days like this; It was when the true northerners complained the most. To Toulouse, who was not a northerner by any stretch of the imagination, these were the spritely summer days where the snow melted from the slopes in streams and the animals crept from their burrows - and so, so would he.  

Once the people of the Basin were in peace, their lives assured. Kaos loomed, clouding every thought and judgement. Once they were unafraid of the dark, unafraid to leave their caves, and unafraid to kiss and wave their farewells; it was for this reason that Toulouse now scoured the Threshold in search of recruits. It was the gateway to their continent, the only way in and out. If any worthy warrior, healer, crafter, counsellor or thief were to slip into Helovia's net, he would be sure to catch them untainted by another herd's strict regimes, harsh ordering and patrols.

It was as he pressed on through the fern, the firs, and stick and stone, that the most subtle of cries was caught by his ears. It was one whistled past him on the wind, the kind that had he not been paying much attention or if his mind was elsewhere, he would have surely missed it. Craning his crowned head upwards, Toulouse's curled ears pinned forwards. Half-expecting that it was an illusion, and that he'd not hear anything of the kind again, Toulouse began to peel his sights away when again, a great screech whistled past, one that was followed closely by a great growl and a THWACK! 

Instinct told the gelding to run. Run, leave them to deal with what was clearly their problem and nothing to do with him (it was also partly not instinct, but his own selfish mind), but curiosity truly did kill the cat.
What on earth would make such a roar?
Shaking his head, giving a gruff sigh the gelding pressed forth upon his dagger like hooves, his bonded serpent hissing in disproval for his master's actions. Over a creek and a meadow he bounded, ears pricks and nose flared, attempting to gather any information on what transpired through the approaching treeline before he was faced with it. A strange animal; one he had smelled only once before, and another equide - maybe even two, as there was two conflicting male and female scents.

Pushing through the trees with a great burst, the gelding feared he had arrived far too late. It had taken him at least fifteen minuted, maybe even a whole half of an hour to reach the bottom of the gully. The shouting, the roaring, the entire fight seemed to have come to a close, though still he ran on through the dale.
Bursting through the first treeline, plummeting to the valley floor, Toulouse continued his faltering strides upwards in the direction of the scents; though there was only one that he could smell and taste now. Blood. Shattering the bracken that dwelled on the edge of the meadow, he again broke into the next expanse of forest and cantered into a glade, soon to stumble upon an alabaster stag. His wounds were fearsome, his pure iridescent hide pitifully bashed. Though, he had no time to stop and wait for those who might already be walking their way to death's door. Following the trail of blood, one that he craved to touch, to even just bare down and smell, Toulouse soon stumbled upon the carcass of a great beast slumped to the ground. Striding in imediately, hardly missing a beat in his footfalls, the phantom looked over the assailant and his two equine victims. The creature was one like Mister Teatime; Maren's bonded, only this one was clearly foul and vicious - nothing like the splendid creature that accompanied the Diviner. The blood dripped, it curdled; it was certainly enough to cause his hungry head to spin and his blank eyes to stare momentarily before curiosity bit at his mind once more.
"What on earth has happened here" He boomed, looking from  the alabaster stag to the young doe, another victim.