The warlord watched from the hill, rain splattering his coat and soaking him to the bone. He knew well that Apollo was not a warrior, but the stallion would defend his honor valiantly. Apollo fought for these lands alongside the Grey and he had proved his worth, causing Archibald's confidence in the stallion. He knew Apollo would not fall so easily to a demented mare. Her words were bile in the air, and though Archibald could not depict her exact articulations, he knew it could not be good. The Dauntless' golden eyes narrowed as he watched, Loretta and Ktulu at his side.

Finally, Apollo overcame. He was victorious.

Archibald watched the painted stallion move towards the meeting tree, the tree which Paladin stood beside, bruised and bloody and burned after winning the title from Gossamer. Archibald swallowed and turned to follow behind Apollo, moving past the members of the Foothills with his head held high. Those that knew him might hate him for leaving these lands, but Archibald cared not. He had come to call Apollo his ally, and the Dauntless knew his bulk would be welcomed with warmth for as long as the blue-horn stayed in leadership. From the corner of his molten sun eyes he watched Ktulu slink away and Eytan amble towards Apollo. Archibald stopped, too far from Apollo to offer his strength, and back so that the overo's followers could file in front of him. Archibald squared his weight and listened to the dual toned stallion speak. The stallion was going to reform his herd. A twinge of interest lit the brute's eyes.

He waited as the others came in. Many congratulated the victorious Chief, but some condemned him. One in particular, an oddly colored filly, held the warlord's attention. She spat in the eyes of Apollo, throwing his peaceful heart to the muck and tearing into it like a wild beast. Archibald felt Loretta prickle at his side. Familiar. Archibald nodded in regards to his bonded's comment, but in the mind of Archibald the familiarity could not be pinpointed. He felt an angry bile form in the back of his throat, and he took a step forward, head lowering an inch, ready to snap the mare in half should she choose to take action. "Apollo fought for these lands, youngling, and he has now fought to defend his title. His qualifications are well-written, and if you define weakness by them, I call you a fool." Archibald's ears flicked back as he watched the tawny mare. Archibald would defend Apollo's honor for the length of Helovia, and a part of him thought that Apollo would do the same.

Archibald waited for no reply from others in the herd, though he was aware of their presence. Locket was among them, a fine warrior that he had trained in the past, as well as a few others Archibald knew not. Archibald's slick tail slapped against his thick back legs, waiting for a retort from the shorter filly.