R I C C I A R D O
The Sandman.

From the distance it was what appeared to be the bulk of a wolf, but as it rounded closer to the flame-kissed brute that was standing over the stranger dame, he thought otherwise. This thing was the strangest thing he had ever seen with his two pools; it bore paws and other features resembling the body of a wolf, yet was still an equine. He had a pelt that was also similar to a wolf; the ashen and yellow tint to it, and his orbs were also yellow. With teeth that were sharpened and ready for the kill, the mammoth beast stood above Ricciardo with some height to spare.
On his side was a little black dragon, barely a height in compare to the huge stranger. It was miniscule, but he knew not to underestimate it. The brute was now confronted with the fact that he could be seriously outnumbered by the pair.

Rounding back on himself to properly face the stranger, ears pinned back and evasive action that meant business fronted the silhouette of Ricciardo; he was ready for an attack if need be. He did not like the look of the creature one bit, and nor was he willing to accept any injury from his menacing knashers. The sorrel kept one eye on the weary dame, her breathing shallow from exhaustion and she still made no effort to redeem any strength regardless of what was getting ever closer.

The dame began to speak of some of reply to him, but it was muffled and he could not understand much. It was suddenly cut short by the appearence of the creature, and this made Ricciardo feel she was still down to earth and able to make what was around her. Right now he could feel no emotion towards the winged equine, she was the least of his problems. Now to round it off, he was confronted by a wolf/horse mix that had the reflexes of someone who would not back down, even if he was being proven wrong.

The question had come as a bit of a shock the brawny brute, he wondered how he could have ever been accused of something when he had only just arrived on the scene. "No, I mean no harm to her. I was merely tending to see if she was alright." Ricciardo held his guard, his sand coloured pools aimed straight at the newest stranger with a cold and guarded expression. His daggers dug deep into the hot sands, his stature poised with a certain proudness. He was embraced for a sudden attack, his horn at the forefront and ready to pierce the creature if necessary.