Traveling around Helovia, the dark man named Caleb had finally grown accustomed to his surroundings. The land's logic was quite simple. Up north, there was snow and a large steppe. Thistle Meadow sat relatively in the middle of Helovia, with the Threshold to the East. To the west, there was the ocean, but the sandy shore with a view of the sea had gotten the name Endless Blue, which was appropriate. There, all you could see for miles and miles were blue waves crashing down on each other. Northwest from Thistle Meadow was a plateau of land that he knew of as Heavenly Fields. The grass there was magnificent, but for the wingless, the treacherous climb to the top was a challenge, especially with all of the mist. As for the herdlands, Caleb knew little. He had never ventured to the herdlands, mostly wary that he would be crossing a border. At one point, he had wanted to venture to one and make a home for himself, yet he never knew which to go to. He had decided to stay an outcast for now, perhaps one day he'd join a herd of outcast group.

He stood silently, ears rotating atop a horned cranium. His eyes dart back and forth, watching his surroundings with care. He was uncertain he truly wanted to see anyone today. He felt somewhat grumpy and he determined all he need was a good fuck. The mares here at Helovia apparently had some sort of virgin complex. Wait for the one. Caleb found it ridiculous. It's not like the mares he courted would grow pregnant if he mounted them outside their heat. Still, he figured they all still though they could get pregnant. A woman's mind was confusing, and their brains were the most treacherous lands- more than any Helovia herdland.

Shaking the thoughts of mares out of his mind (mostly to save himself the embarrassment of possibly getting too excited while thinking about them) he dropped his cranium to the ground, muzzle digging into the snow in search for the glass hidden beneath. Food was scarce these times and if he could find anything here it wouldn't hurt. Venturing up north was almost a death wish. He didn't know how to find very much food up there, nor was he totally acclimated to the cold bite of the air. Down south, he'd probably have more chance of finding something. Mentally, he decided that he'd go south next, he'd migrate much like birds do.

@[Bucephalus] to talk about the spy stuff !!