We can not fall behind a land of nothing, one so small and insignificant can't control the buildings of a land. Evers cannot hide behind his brother and expect to come out noble and worthy. It is weak and worthless, something Miltiades will not stand for. This is his fathers home and he will guide them to the top. He is rising from his days of hibernating. Hibernating? Or so it seemed, he slept and ate. Watched everything from a distance as they built up a whole new Helovia. He watched as they formed hierarchy. Waiting for his perfect moment to join them. To walk among the herd his god had built up.

Now it was time for him to show himself. To prove his worth, strength, power. He had longed for far too long to taste the flesh and blood of another grazing his teeth. For the overpowering odor of sweat and authority to move along the air. To stick his long horn through the hide of another, to rip it in half. A seam line of a scar to form if they made it out alive. His own scars that littered his hide danced in tunes of the past. Reminding him of the merciless vicious attacks he would carry out on duty. Protecting himself and perhaps sometimes the others who were worthy of his help. Even so he would always fight for what he believed, nothing less, nothing more.

Miltiades swiftly moved through the Foothills. Creeping through the trees, slinking around this lovely place. Heart beating steadily as he pawed his hoof to the ground. Those sharp daggers pulling blades of grass, roots, and mud from the Earth. Violently shaking his head around. Crying with battle tones. Forcing a wild and violent look into his eye. Losing himself in memories and the rush of adrenaline. Forming a whole new pose of arrogance and intimidation within his large frame. Muscles tightened and coiled for the fight. The Noriker could feel his body temperature rise as the nerves in his soul become wrecked. Miltiades opened his mouth for one last battle cry before clamping his mandible shut. Leaning to his haunches in a rear. An old wound upon his left fibula reminding him of his only weakness before he crashed to the ground in a fit of brutal unfortune.

The wound did not affect the way he was but only sometimes did his aging bones deceive him and place an amountable sort of pain to it. "Show yourself Evers!" his voice crackling with deep tenors. Agitated canine muscle quivering evenly with his temper. Pectoral muscles bunched as he moved unevenly upon the ground. Anxious and ready. A wild flare in his eye. Fear far from slowing him. Fear was consumed by his arrogance and pride within knowing his own power. "Unless you know your loss will come." Miltiades could feel within himself he was a victor. Could you understand the mind of an arrogant warrior? Could you understand someone with completely opposing sides?

[ooc- 800 words max, 4 posts each, I'm assuming you will make the first move so you have 1 defense post.
SETTING: Foothills. Warm day. Slightly cloudy. Decent temperature. On a slight hill, mud is still there but hardened more than normal.
SUMMARY: 0/4 || 503 words]