"Blood everywhere."

What fitting first words from a dragon whose very name means bleeding! Volterra jerks his head up from his grazing, astonished at the words in his head. He is used to his companion communicating soley in images, emotions and urges, so to have an actual deep, throaty voice resounding in his head is queer, to say the least. The giant's lips twitch into a feral smirk. Ah, his dragon is growing! Care to elaborate? he questions the red, but Vérzés' newfound ability to speak is not quite that advanced, and he cannot find the words. Instead he sends the leviathan an image of a crimson waterfall and eternally red trees, eerie and ominous. Vérzés had flown ahead at the sound of the commotion in the distance, and is only too happy to report back to his bonded about his findings.

The black monolith throws himself into a heavy canter, following his dragon's mental urgings. Forwards he goes, his pounding hooves like a rhythm of a war drum, his nostrils snorting brisk spring air out of them, his ears slicked back by the momentum of his movements. The trees part and there - there it is. Volterra has never seen anything like it. He is quite sure this wasn't here before, and his handsome features crease into a puzzled frown. Vérzés chirps a greeting and lands heavily on the colt's back, claws digging into tight flesh and thick muscle as he gives the beast's mane an affectionate tug. "Have words now," purrs the dragon, and Volterra chuckles. The blood-dragon sounds like a foal speaking for the first time, all stuttery and confused, but it's a start. Perfection takes time, something the yearling learnt many moons ago.

Arrayed around the crimson waterfall are creatures of all shapes and sizes, with markings the likes of which Volterra has never seen. One has crystals - crystals - erupting from his flesh, another is drenched in purple and black, yet another is coated in thick armour. Helovia has its quirky characters but nothing quite like this. The creatures are alien, and reek of unfamiliarity.

The young stallion arches his powerful neck and steps forward, noting the confusion emenating from most of the strangers. There's some familiar faces too - he sees Ophelia and her silver, and jealousy spikes through Vérzés at the covetous looks his bonded gives the royal. But most of the horses are unfamiliar, and the giant clears his throat. "I am Volterra," he rumbles in his thick, testosterone-fuelled baritone. "This is Helovia.  What is this place? Why is it so red?" His tail swings against his colossal flanks and he wanders closer to the pond below the falls, whilst the din of the cascade rings in his ears. How can water be red? Is it a trick of his mind, or has some great beast died and spilled its jugular into the water's source?

But, you only live once, and Nyx is not the sort to shy away from exploration. With great trepidation, the silver soldier moves forwards, her tail lifted high and billowing over her thighs, her neck arched and tight. She trots, but it isn't her usual free-flowing stride - it is anxious and high-stepped, frisky and nervous. Suddenly the trees are red - suddenly everything is red - and the ironheart beholds a crimson waterfall that pours into an equally crimson pool. All around, in the pool and out, are horses the likes of which she has never seen. She has lived in the wilderness outside Helovia, where designs range from conservative like herself to elaborate like displaying birds, but she has never seen anything like this. Some of the creatures dotted around are, quite simply, far too bizarre to have any right to be alive.

Her lion bristles beside her, growling slightly at all the new faces. The silver vaguely recognises some of the gathered horses, but the vast majority are new - both to her and, it seems, everybody else. She stands, looking from crystal-dotted weirdos to multicoloured monstrosities, and another wry snort escapes her flared nose. What in the name of Cinnoru is this shit? For the most part, the strange creatures seem just as surprised to be here as Nyx is to see them here, and her icy gaze travels to a sexy beast of a man who emenates electricity. The storm queen loves electricity, and she is hardpressed not to drool - little does she know that her lecherous gaze is fixated on nothing less than a God.

Not knowing quite what to do, the mare hangs back, content to let others speak up. After all, the only sentence she would be able to come out with would start with 'what' and would end with 'the fuck are you', so it is best for everybody if she just stays quiet. ""

I am not the resident expert on Helovia; there's still many lands I have not explored, even in my shameless eternal search for food. I barely know my way around the place, let alone the hidden nooks and crannies that only longtime residents could possibly find. So a new land appearing is far from life-changing for me, because as far as I'm concerned, it could have been here all along. Still, it might have new food that I haven't yet sampled, so it's best all around that I go and investigate.

My paces are a bit faster now that I've lost some weight, and the spring air has invigorated me. I break into a hearty trot, practicing all the long, flowing strides that the humans had me do, on repeat, for hours. My mane and tail are long and tangled, and coupled with my weight loss, I could easily pass for a born-and-bred wild horse...except for the tattered leather halter on my face, which has endured the elements without a fuss. It shows its wear though, and I fear it will soon disintegrate. It is my only memory of a time I loved and hated in equal measure, and I would be loathe to lose it. It marks me as different, as outcast, telling of the fact that I had not been born out here in the wilderness...if the fact I'm not a ball-swinging stallion doesn't give it away, of course.

The trees begin to turn red, and I find myself dribbling a bit. Perhaps they're a new flavour of tree. It is, perhaps, too optimistic of me to think they may be sugar-flavoured trees, of course, but anything that doesn't taste purely like tree would be a welcome change. I continue to trot forwards, given a second wind by the sight of something edible, but I'm soon distracted from the foliage by a waterfall. No waterfall like I've ever seen before, though. This one is blood-red, and I find myself gawping.

And oh, spirits, the horses. I have never seen such a vast array of freaks in my life, and I've lived with humans! I slow to a walk, swinging my head side to side to take it all in. I feel suddenly faint at the sight of creatures with markings that are even more elaborate than your common-or-garden Helovian, and I wonder where these newbies have come from. On the plus side, though, I'm no longer the weirdest beastie in Helovia! I stand where I am, my hunger forgotten, oggling the newcomers with awe and shock in my eye. ""