No Time for Lies and Empty Fights
The meeting concluded rapidly after the revelation that Helovia was ailing beneath a new sort of darkness. A wave of apprehension bristled through the flecking orange feathers dressing his enormous wings; the gently stroking flames which had been born amongst the spill of his long, thick mane (and that adorning the final length of his tail) began to flare and twist with the surge of testosterone, fuelling the sentiment.
Hector pressed forward as the group began to split in two and disperse, muscling between the rolling bodies until he came upon both the bay and the black and white, gold rimmed steeds, the Sultans; his superiors in every respect. "Kings," he bellowed through the stew of troubled voices. "Use me as you will." A gracious nod spilt the veil of engulfed chestnut forelock across his stark, orange eyes- and they fixed dutifully to the gaze of each Sultan respectively.
With that said, the giant followed Gaucho unquestioningly when finally they set sail into the northbound sky.
They fell upon the Heart of Helovia with the gentle thud of precision and skill, each Pegasus falling carefully behind their preceding peers. They were led to the great fissure which had peeled apart the land and paused briefly by the mouth while their leader placed upon the stone a symbol to lure those wandering kin in; Hector was focused, eyes roving always about the group- through the undulating sea of grass which surrounded them at a small distance, while Veci swept wraithlike throughout. Certainly there should be enough eyes to find ill-meaning company before it fell upon them.
Quickly they descended into the depths of the cave. The orange giant had not travelled into the subterranean world yet; first and foremost, his priority lay with protecting the borders- and neither Midas, nor Gaucho had instructed him to do otherwise. Rumour amongst the fighting ranks told though, of the small troupe which had represented the herd and explored it many, many moons ago. From the whispering he gathered that enough resources lay beneath to provide for their survival- though he could only imagine such would be frightfully primitive.
Then Midas and the Diviner arrived sometime after those flighted among the ranks, and to each the warrior offered a temperate snort, and an unusually peaceable nod. Faces he had seen periodically trickled in afterwards- and some unfamiliar souls, who caused sinewy shoulders to ripple with trained suspicion. Never the less he welcomed them into the building crowd while the Sultans seemed unaffected. Only when Gaucho spoke to one bat-winged stallion did Hector stiffen, and his burly knee struck forward one hoof to graze the scuffed rock beneath; huge wings unfurling by half above the crowd.
Many voices sand through the drone building as more souls arrived, but the warrior’s eyes danced only between the concern flanking the bay Sultan, and that stallion who was being questioned. Satanic Silk spoke, though his tones sounded harsh- as though some corruption bubbled the saliva in his throat and Hector began forward stridently, driving his considerable bulk between the heaving ocean of creatures; he was unenthused, untouched by those pleading words echoing around for the sake of their Diviner. With a callous gaze covering the flaxen-maned stallion as he turned and fled their sanctuary, the warrior followed to be certain he did not return.
There, not far inside the opening of the fissure through the heart, Hector posted himself to guard.
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