Arakh is a rather simple creature and not prone to fits of vanity, but he cannot help glowing at the way he has developed recently. Upon reaching his second birthday he seemed to fill out noticeably, with firm muscles rippling beneath grullo skin and a stallion's arch appearing on the crest of his neck. The bull horns that looked so out of place upon his younger self now sit like a proud crown atop his head, curved and powerful; his pride and joy.

Those feathered wings that he once struggled to control are now wielded with ease, enabling him to twist and turn through the skies like the most nimble of birds. That's what he's doing today, soaring over the Blood Falls with his head angled downwards to admire the world spread out beneath him, from the crimson trees to the haunting ruby falls that dominate the landscape. The dying sun seems to cast the whole world into sharp relief, and the young stallion can't help but admire it.

That's when Arakh sees the white bird. He knows that bird - there are few with that unique colouration. The sight of it makes his heart pound, and suddenly there's an ache between his muscular thighs as he thinks of the vulture's bonded, the beautiful filly he'd met in the snow. Alas, this is an unwanted side-effect of his growth to stallionhood - these urges that he doesn't understand, that make him want to mount anything that stands before him long enough. Without a mother or father to give him 'the talk' so he knows that what he's experiencing is normal, Arakh is terrified that these urges are unnatural and embarrassing, which is why he's turned into something of a recluse in recent weeks. How can he be around other horses when his primal desire is to crush them beneath his bulk and give in to the ache, the heat that consumes him?

Being around Kiada, the first one to incite such feelings when he was just a colt, is probably very unwise. If he struggles to control himself around others, how on earth will he conquer his desires around the beautiful fire-mare?

All the same, Arakh finds that his wings suddenly fold, casting him into a dive. He hurtles between the trees, down, down, down until he flares the feathered appendages and lands heavily beside her. Unfortunately, she is even more beautiful than she was last time. She's grown into a fine woman, and despite how much he knows he shouldn't, he finds his feral teal gaze roaming across her whole body. The twitch between his thighs resumes, and he can feel his resolve weakening. "Kiada." His voice was deep even as a boy, yet now it's positively thunderous, heavily accented and reeking of virility. He stands tall, demonstrating every thick muscle and allowing the proud horns on his head to point towards the heavens, their savage tips glistening in the sunset. "Kiada grown up. Arakh likes." There's obvious lust behind the thick voice, as much as the bull tries to hide it.