There's a chill in the autumn air, cold enough to bite at the black monolith's flesh and tingle into his muscles. He grazes idly, alone, his dragons off hunting - not together, of course, as much as he tried to convince them that if they co-operated they could bring down far larger prey to fill their hungry bellies. No, at that suggestion, both red king and golden queen looked at him as though he had suggested they roll in horse shit, and had taken to the wing in seperate directions. Now, Volterra receives flashes of both of their hunts - his red stalks a small den of rabbits, whilst Vadir darts beneath the water of the ocean, snapping up fish between her ravenous jaws. The combined sensations from his companions makes the beast hungry, too, and he rips up grass like his life depends on it.

He's still grazing when noises begin to draw his interest, and he lifts his colossal skulled head to glance around. His flesh tingles, the hairs standing on end like something big is happening, and his upper lip lifts to taste the air. He turns, angling himself towards the thing, breaking into a ground-shaking trot. The feathers of his feet flare behind him with the motion of his movements, and his tail flows like a banner. He is inelegant, he is functional, he has the grace of a bumbling elephant, but it works. His strides are long, devouring the ground beneath him, bringing him quickly towards the source. His hooves suddenly clatter on wood, and he realises he's on a bridge, crossing the water - how generous, to save his pitiful swimming from having to be on display!

A jingling rings in his ears as he moves closer, huffing slightly from his run. The young warmonger glances around, surprised there are not yet more here, slowing his stride to a plodding walk. He looks around, hunting for the sound of jingling bells - without his dragons to give him an aerial view, he feels almost naked, and has to rely on his own eyes to find out what's going on. Closer he roves, a hulking black shadow, and finally his gaze rests on the turtle and the tree. Confusion flashes across his features and his ears flicker backwards, whilst his nose lowers to sniff at the not-cold-snow. He says nothing - he senses that he doesn't have to. The serenity tingles in the depths of his heart, and he feels strangely relaxed, at peace.