The flaming pit behind him, Dragomir headed west, his pelt dampened by the swift river he had forded nearly immediately outside the boundaries of the burning earth. Behind him were the shifting and shimmering sands of a desert that stretched further than he could see, but the stench of feathers pervading the area surrounding the sandy stretch had driven him across the waters and toward the edges of the continent. A forest stood to his right side, the male having chosen to walk along the grassy stretch between the beaches and the wood, where he could stop and graze when hunger struck him; he could also see far ahead and behind of himself, a vantage that would be lost if he were to return to the shaded comfort of the trees.

The sun beat down from it's highest peak as he rounded a slopping and gentle collection of hills and presented him with another decision. To the south, a peninsula stretched it's arms out to the sea, the west seeming to convert from grassy brush to damp and muddy murk. The easterly wind swept in, carrying with it the stench of the marsh, the smell enough to direct Dragomir onto the arm of land that reached out into the choppy and grey waters of the ocean.

At least it didn't reek of death this way.

The stretch of land brought him out into yet another magnificent sight. Was this whole land nothing but glory and splendor? Far ahead, so many hundreds of yards, a giant and yawning mountain sleepily oozed smoke in a black column through the sky, and even from this great distance he could see the molten rock sliding down it's steep sides. It was hot here, as well; spring had given way to the heat of summer in his adventures across the continent, but even the summer sun couldn't hold a candle to the simmering warmth of the isle. What moisture still held to his coat from his plunge into the river steamed off of his muscular back, already further honed by the journey south as young muscle was prone to do.

The ground beneath his hooves was of odd consistencies, some places nearly like black diamonds and other sections that compressed under his bulk as if they were hard sponges. But most spectacular were the rivulets of blue that stretched all around him, as far as the land reached out into the sea. He found himself walking precariously close to the edge of the natural bridge to watch the ribbons flow past, his crystalline eyes sparkling with youthful amusement as he drew nearer and nearer the shrines that he had yet to notice, so enthralled by strangeness of the rock material that he had forgotten entirely to look ahead of himself.

For an hour or so he pressed forward, until finally the strip of land that had carried him across the sea of slumbering magma gave away to an open ledge. He lifted his gaze to look upon the dilapidated structures rimming the edge of the volcano, the hot air pressing against his lungs so near to the source of all this heat, drawing from the many hoof prints in the dirt around them as well as the decoration of the stones themselves that this was a sacred place, the place where the three-faced Gods of Helovia watched and ruled their kingdom. He observed the shrines with a curiosity often seen on his young face, moving from the sundered temple of the Lord Time and along down the line of shrines, recognizing the symbols of the Moon Goddess but not the runes of the other divines, though still he swallowed their images greedily. At last, he came upon the stones that most firmly called to his faith; the grey stone was decorated with black lines that bloomed glowing blue flowers, an elegant sculpture that, while he could not be sure, he believed to denote the Lord of the Earth.

Dropping to his front knees and slowly lowering his frame to the ground, lying with limbs tucked gently underneath himself with his brow pressed against the magma heated stone. A deep breath followed another, a flowing sequence, the painted male attempting to feel the hum of the energy that flowed through the entire land emanating from the rock. He thought he felt some vibrations - possibly just the rumbling guts of the volcano - but it suited his needs well enough; his deep vocals broke from his lips, a nearly whispered prayer to the silent shrine. "Father Earth," he began, pressing his brow tighter to the stone, "I am alone here, in this place. You do not know me. But, if you can hear me... please listen."

"I am so lost, Father," he pleaded to the rock, the silent and despondent stone, "I know only Aarde and Nieque, the old and tattered laws of a land dead and gone. Where do I fit in here?" A sigh escaped him, his closed eyes flickering open to stare blankly at a flower that cast its azure light across his features. All of the conflicting messages of the life before Helovia pressed in against his soul, drew his lips into a scowl that both loathed and adored the magical isle he had been born on. "I am adrift a sea of strangers, with nothing to offer but myself and ideals that are not suited to their own. Perhaps I should never have come to this place," he paused, gathering his thoughts, feeling all the worries close in on his young and exhausted brain attempting to piece together that which most bothered him in his heart, "perhaps all I have ever known or been taught is wrong."

[ OOC: Giving it a go for his crafting magic. <3 ]