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The God knows this boy - this man. He fought valiantly against the Riftian Gods, winning himself a number of trinkets, if memory served him correctly. He had also appeared a number of other times when the God was present, and always the red-eyed beast seemed to hold himself with an air of determination and something like providence. As if he knew he was destined for great things, and was merely going through the motions of achieving them. But, perhaps rather shamefully on the part of the God, it was not those traits that the image of the stallion immediately brought up in his mind. He did not see the darkened steed as a boy, receiving an amulet from him. He did not see the beast tearing apart the tiger in the Riptide Isles. No, he saw his daughter, and her capricious feelings towards the stallion.
The God sighed. It was not his place to peer into the mind of his daughter, and she would likely chastise him if she knew that he had. Despite not knowing everything about her - the baby for instance, was an ignorant hole in his near-omnipotence - he knew enough, to know that she had grown rather fond of Volterra.
Very fond, truth to be told. Love, even.
The God rumbled into existence a few meters away from the trio. The normal centered and eager frenetic feelings her normally gathered from the stallion were decidedly lacking today. Today, he appeared tangled in invisible veins that directed his thoughts and tempered his movements. Brows knit, the God shook away from the clods of dirt that had accumulated on his flanks during his slow crawl through the stoney ground upon which he now stood.
"Volterra." He offered, his voice stern, yet warm. The God nodded equally to both dragons, before returning his solemn gaze onto the stallion. "What brings you to my shrine?" He inquired, with a tapered curiosity.
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[P] father with a shotgun [earth god]
