The Engineer wandered slowly from the north, bitterness a clear and dark emotion written on his mad, bronze eyes. A black, leonine tail whipped around his fetlocks in agitation, and muscular, bold shoulders rolled beneath his black, marked skin. During the winter, Ulrik's bronze and ebony beard had grown long, the wavy fur stretching down the front of his neck and then gathering on his chest and below his belly. He was beginning to shed, but the beard would remain with his age. The stallion was a massive beast with a natural musculature that did not lessen much with inactivity, but compared to his nomadic family, the stallion was scrawny.
A whirring followed in his wake, red, mechanical, glowing eyes peering soullessly from behind his well-structured hind legs. The metal wolf had survived the winter with some care and grease, and it loyally, emptily followed its master based on simple relays and electrical optic commands. Engineering, beauty, simplicity. Every circuit board, battery, and joint was carefully crafted with metal. And from the wolf-like build and elegant face of the creature, the massive, black beast obviously held some sort of appreciation for nature, somewhere, buried deep beneath a wild and angry exterior.
Why would that black bitch think that he would just follow her loyally into that herdland? Pah! His only loyalty was to the purity of his blood and the ground beneath his hooves. Perhaps Mauja fit into that equation too; he respected the diplomatic, calm approached of the white stallion, but he had been absent for some time. Apparently, he left the entire herd and their "secret" group in the oh-so capable hands of the black bitch, and now, Ulrik thought the white stallion an idiot. Out of all the capable and loyal subjects, he had to choose the one mare who left him when she birthed their spawn? Pathetic.
Blood supremacy was all he had now, and that was all he had to prove. Naturally, the two, twisted and menacing crowns upon his brow made him more glorious than any of these creatures. And, since Mauja's folly, apparently made him more glorious that most of his own kind! Cloven hooves carried him bitterly through the meadow, unaware of his destruction on pretty, budding flowers and ground-nesting birds. He would not have given much a damn if he had noticed. Ulrik gazed down at his creation after pausing and growled deep in his throat. "And they all wanted me to name you, useless scrap," he grunted, his voice unnaturally deep and grating like gravel.
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