Technically, Gaucho was a part of the Dragon’s Throat. He didn’t really feel like one though, as far as his primitive feelings were concerned, anyways. He had been ‘claimed’ by a stallion called Levi, who he had later sparred with. But upon entering the Throat, not a single soul came down to meet him - to inquire as to why he was there, or what his intentions were. He could have been a spy, or a threat, and they would have been none the wiser. He had intended to meet their leader, and see what his job ought to be within the herd, but never had the chance. Very well, he would go out on a scouting mission on his own then, see what there was to see, and perhaps once he returned again, there would be more of a reception.

Gaucho was a towering figure, standing 17.2hh, with a muscular Hanoverian build. He was quite a handsome creature, in a primitive and rough-around-the-edges sort of way. His mane and tail were luxuriously long, if not a little unkempt. He sported primitive barring on his shoulders and thighs, as well as black dorsal stripe between his two massive black wings. All along his body were odd tribal markings, appeared to be smeared on with war paint, the colour of dried blood. On his hip was what appeared to be a hand print, amongst other random splatters. The other notable marking he sported, was a ring of ray-like strokes around his left eye, painted a pale yellow. The only other striking feature to note, was that there was a bone driven through the soft cartilage of his nose.

As he moved, his steely blue eyes surveyed the area with a calculated interest. Always looking for traps and points which would be good strategic points for battle later on, Gaucho actually appeared to be intelligently categorizing the area. Not that the bay was dumb, by any means, but nor was he a great conversationalist. Gaucho was primitive and primal, speaking only when necessary, and valuing his skills as a warrior above all else. So you see, it isn’t that he’s slow, or unintelligent, merely that he’s focused his efforts growing up on different priorities; ones that do not typically include good hygiene, or social skills.

As he moved, his large ears pricked forward, hearing something in the distance. Narrowing his eyes he directed himself towards the sound. It almost sounded like...chanting? With a grunt, he cantered up the incline, briefly losing himself in the cloudy cover, before finally breaking into the Fields. There, laying unassumingly, appeared to be a large rack of elk antlers. As he neared, he found that they were faintly glowing, and as unintuitive as it seemed, were the cause of the chanting. With a grunt and no thought of fear, the brute lowered his muzzle towards the antlers, snorting as he did so. As soon as his head was lowered, magically the antlers leaped into the air, affixing themselves to his brow. With a sharp whinny, Gaucho reared up, tossing his head and yet feeling no movement from the antlers. Grunting again, he picked up a gallop tossing his head furiously as he did so. His primitive mind did not understand what had happened; what evil spirit was punishing him. Sliding to a stop, he lowered his head, grating the spines of the antlers deep into the ground. It was only once he saw the immense scars he had carved into the earth, that he realized that perhaps this was a gift, rather than a punishment. Pausing, he considered what an invaluable weapon these antlers could be.

He also realized he felt...something. A buzzing within his soul? He couldn’t name it, but it felt dark and immense, like an ocean at midnight.

[This is Gaucho receiving his personal item and magic. Please join! :3]