Draevo had spent much of the day off on his own exploration, it had taken him far of the Dragon's Throat borders and into the unclaimed territories that surrounded the desert island. The large, brutish stallion had grown restless himself with being confined to patrols on the island, this was not what he was made for.  This was not what he had been born to do, and while that purpose had flickered to the wind many moons ago, it did not take away the simple fact his existence was to fight, to defend, to protect. He was not some common guard that could be collared to a specific spot like a wolf tied to a leash, he was a warrior, he was meant to be out there finding threats and bringing honor to the Dragon's Throat herd.


He had flown with such fervor, well muscled wings carrying him on the tumultuous sea air as the sun began to set on the horizon, it was too late to turn back for the Throat now. It would take him much of the night to fly back there, no, he would have to bed down for the night and make his way back at first light. Lightning hued eyes spied a lush island within distance and he banked to land upon it. Isolated from the rest of the main land, unless you had a mind to swim in the chaotic currents which crashed against the rocks, or brave the chaotic air which whipped at his own feathers and sought to buffet him from the skies.  It would provide adequate shelter and safety for the night from any unfortunate predators that would try and hunt such a beast as himself.

Large hooves landed on the ground, heavy and careless as they ripped up the lush grasses and flowers beneath their pale plates. Multicolored wings stayed raised as he surveyed the nearby area, thickened nostrils snorting as he evened out his breathing once more, even hardened warriors like himself were not immune to how taxing long flights could be. When he was satisfied there were no creatures that prowled within the thick foliage, he moved with a purposeful stride, ears pressed forward and neck lightly arched.


Forest soon became less dense, it became sparse and sandy beneath his plate sized hooves, not that he minded. The throat was filled with sand, you'd be lucky to find a part of it that wasn't covered by it's golden hue, it was followed by the faint sound of gentle waves lapping against much softer ground. Eventually, he reached the edge of the forested thicket, and was met by the sight of a mare making her own way up to where he was. Pierced nostrils flared to drink in her sent, which smelled richly of baked earth, sand and salt — she was a fellow member of his herd, that much it told him, what was she doing out here? It wasn't safe for mares to be out on their own after dark, and he moved towards her.


"M'ath, you far away from throat." Was his grunted greeting and question, voice as thick as smog and rumbled as the thunder did in the height of a storm. Skull marked head tilted with his question as his gaze moved once more over her feminine frame, unabashed in his observing. A typical stallion at heart, he was not immune to appreciating a particularly pretty mare, and this one certainly drew his gaze in a less than platonic way. She curved in the right places, muscled but not heavily so, and her blackened brindled body shimmered in the dying rays of the sun, like a mirage on the fringes of the great long grasses he had come from. "Why you so far away?"