In contrast, he feels pulled towards her, like a magnet. Perhaps it is simply the fact she is a woman and he is a man, and he is naturally drawn towards the fairer sex for the pleasure he knows they can bring him. The fact she is one with dragons only adds to her beauty, and makes her that much harder to resist.

But the leviathan fights his body's desire to move back to her side, and stands his ground with his powerful limbs firmly rooted. He will not appear desperate, a doll in her hooves. His tail arches high, the strands slapping idly against his hocks as he scrutinises her, still hardpressed to comprehend what made her leave his side. Women offend easily, he reminds himself, and Vadir gives a hiss of warning at this notion of an insult.

Her silence after his question has him wondering if he's said something else to upset her, and he narrows his eyes warily. Eventually she speaks, and the beast listens. For a moment, he envies her - envies the fact she doesn't have a plan, a destiny. Himself? He's bred and born to rule. War runs through the blood in his veins, and battle paints his ancestors like fine art. He and Nymeria were even conceived for this very purpose - to wear their parents' legacies like armour, uphold their family name and raise it above and beyond what it has ever been. It's only fortunate that the colossus wants all the things he was bred for, that his personality meshes perfectly with the ideals his mother had for him.

He might be an outcast, with the whole of Helovia to roam. But he has never truly been free, and for one dark moment his gut twists with jealousy. As he mused earlier - he wants to live for himself and be his own man, but he cannot and will not deny his legacy.

But his envy is instantaneous, and gone swiftly. He loves his life, warts and all. If he was born for a different reason, with different parents and different ambitions, he wouldn't be him - brawny, sexual, warmongering, hedonistic Volterra. He might be some sissy weakling, not a man strong enough to harness the souls of two dragons. His neck arches powerfully, his momentary bad mood swiftly dissipated. "My goals?" He hums beneath his breath - whereas when Amaris hums it is a beautiful draconic harmony, when Volterra does it it's a guttural, masculine growl. "Anything and everything, Amaris. I hope to rule one day, but until then I will simply grow, strengthen, and enjoy every moment." He flashes her his wolfish grin at her, flaring his nostrils and shaking his mane with a breathy huff.

With a mental joust to his dragons, he beckons them from their frolics and back towards him. "I know of a fine grazing spot near here. Would you care to join me?" He tilts his colossal head at the dragonmare, an invite to leave this place and spend a little bit more time simply relaxing in each other's company.