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The colt had wandered through the frigid ice, following at a distance the great and powerful stallion whom he had grown to admire in a matter of seconds. He had only seen the powerful grey with the blue eyes once, met him but once, and still, the yearling was smitten, idolizing the one named Deimos. If only he could grow to be so powerful, so... revered. The way that mare had been drawn to him was exciting, and even moreso, his mysterious ways and mannerisms held such darkness. Like a moth of a flame, he was captured, wanting power and strength of his own. Be the stallion a good influence or not, Varath had just made Deimos his role model, but he was too smart to follow like a puppy.
Instead, he followed like a lost dog, wandering after the grey stallion by tracking his hoof steps in the snow. Varath had tried to keep the wicked grey in his sights for as long as he could, but the general path forward had not been too hard to follow. When he arrived at a pass between two mountains, the colt blew white smoke through his charcoal nostrils, boldly clambering up the rocky steps.
For his young age, the colt was beginning to show signs of his powerful, future physique. He was long legged and muscular with a sloping hip and angled shoulder. The crested neck arched in a higher set and gave way to a firm, bold face. Black mane and tail was beginning to grow out and lay over his neck, the fringes a bloody, deep crimson. One of his orbs was red and the other grey, giving him away as a sibling of his sister, Ophelia, almost instantly. In fact, he was almost a spitting image of his older sibling when she was greying out, but he would never get to be as white in color as she. Once he dappled in a dark grey, he would remain that way until the end of his life.
After sliding down the rocky path, he was surprised to see that the interior of this mountain was rather lush. The chilly winds no longer clung to his puffed coat, and he was able to move without shivering. Varath trotted forward, tossing his head high in the air, a child of personality and a future career in violence. Instead of calling out to the leaders of the land, he took do grazing on the tundra grass, wanting to assimilate. Two colored eyes sought out Deimos, trying to see where he hid, but he did not set eyes on the demonic grey. Where had he gone?
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