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The Heavenly Fields were no foreign place to the warmongering pair. These were Loretta's favorite hunting grounds, and Archibald's mammoth hooves remembered his patrols well. They had spent most of their time in Helovia under the community of the Windtossed Foothills, but now they were no more. Archibald's journey from the caves had brought his mind towards his long-time home, to see if it had been abandoned, and he found only a bastardized version of the place he had once known so well. Every tree, shadow, blade of grass--they were changed, gone forever, and so the warlord and bitch moved on to somewhere familiar. As they ascended into the Fields all that could be heard was the natural noises of the land, and the metallic click that Archibald's new weapons made, nailed to the bottom of each of his already lethal hooves.
The horseshoes had been a quizzical awakening, but the stallion had grown used to them now. They would make great tools for him, weapons amplifying the destruction that his opponents already feared his hooves could bring. His powerful, pillar-like limbs packed the force of hurricanes, leaving broken bones in their wake, and now they had steel to ruin and destroy. It almost brought a sadistic smirk to the Dauntless' lips, and it surely did to Loretta's, for she crooned at the idea of Archibald's power. Soon, on their walk into the fields, they realized they were not alone. Loretta growled lightly, hackles raising. "Calm, hound." Archibald commanded, his voice thunder. Silenced, Loretta slows some, falling steps behind the kingly stallion. She decides to leave and devour her prey, and turns on her heels to bound into the surrounding forest. Archibald, despite his bitch's retreat, prowls on towards the winged beast before him.
His golden eyes had never graced this being before him, and the warlord lifted his head some. In a natural, instinctful way, Archibald's neck arched a hair and he seemed to grow larger. His very presence, a wraith as dark as the night enveloped by dragon-fire scars and carried on pristine white feathered legs, seemed to engulf the entirety of the Fields. Archibald the Dauntless had surely arrived. With his typical, stoic scowl, Archibald merely nodded in the direction of the bat-winged pegasus, stopping just fox-lengths from him.
I've been known for my hate,
but I'm a dealer of simple choices;
for me it's never too late.
please tag me
