As afternoon slowly ran its course, and the sun began to lower to a point where glare would blind one's vision if one looked to the west, the world seemed still and warm and calm. A shallow breeze trickled through the air, creating pockets of warm thermals where bugs buzzed happily in thick swarms. In the meadow, the grasses were lush and fragrant as flowers reached the peak of their short and seasonal lives; blissfully swaying in the breeze.

But it was not to last.

Tallsun was coming to an end; Gaucho could scent it on the wind. Soon, Orangemoon would come, and bring with it torrential rains and a cooler climate. Having never weathered the season in the Throat before, Gaucho idly wondered if his herd land would experience any undue hardship caused by the weather, or if the Throat would remain as dry and dusty as ever. The thought didn't weigh so heavily on his mind however, that it caused him any distress. Moreso, the thought simply tumbled in one ear and out the other, making a passing impression upon his simple mind.

What was causing the brute a certain amount of mental discomfort, was his recent conversation - if you can call it that - with the God of the Sun. Whilst praying to the patron of his new herdland, the God had actually appeared before Gaucho, and had requested of the large bay, that he spread the gospel of the Sun God to one and all. The task seemed insurmountable in Gaucho's primitive brain. For one, the brute could only parse a few sentences together, at the best of times. How was he to preach of a God in a way that was even mildly acceptable? Of course, even this phrasing was far too advanced for Gaucho, who was currently thinking Why he no ask Gaucho to fight? Gaucho fight for God. Gaucho no good at talk for God.

But he would speak with the shaman onnnnneeee about that. Surely she could help him. Today, as the afternoon slowly came to a close, Gaucho simply wanted to release some of his tension. While one small quest from a God would hardly cause stress to others, for a simple creature like Gaucho who was not used to straining himself mentally, was beginning to find himself wound tighter and tighter. Standing in the open expanses of the meadow, Gaucho tossed his antlered skull impatiently. Someone would come to challenge him, to ebb away at his pent-up energy - they always did. Rearing, his large hooves striking out at the sky, Gaucho issued an intimidating war-cry. Flaring his bone-pierced nostrils, he spread his massive black wings making himself appear larger than he already was. He snapped his black tail creating a dry thwaaack, as it slapped against his hocks. Screaming again, ears pinned to his skull, his steely blue-grey eyes darted about the flat area, intently searching for a possible opponent.

[WC: 493 Magic and Companions - up to you to decide :) 3 attacks each, judged. You may attack first.
Setting: Thistle Meadow (flat area) just before evening. The air is warm and there is a slight breeze. The sun is low, creating a glare if you look towards the west (aka into the setting sun).

Attack 0/3, Gaucho will be using buffs BULK and DANCE.]