Pale hooves strike hard against the blackened rock of the land bridge.  Pearl colored coat trembles beneath the mist of the ocean spray that crashes angrily against the sides, slicking the rock and making the journey perilous.  The wind is up today, hot and hard.  The sun's angry eye stares down from a clear blue, cloudless sky.  And yet Seanan does not burn.  He shines.  He is a product of desert heat and wind.  Even the cold spray of the ocean cannot cool his burning blood.  Today though, the sun does not draw the gentle shades of lavender to his eyes.

Today his eyes are red.

Between sea salt and the drying winds, his eyes are more scarlet than is natural, blood shot and red-rimmed.  He trots but instead of his normal long-legged, loose strides each pace is tight and sharp.  His body vibrates on the cusp of violence.  He does not hesitate despite the fact that he does not know exactly where he is going.  He only knows that the gods are supposed to be here and he has business with them.

Then he is beyond the reach of the ocean and amidst baking heat.  The soft blue glow of the slow magma paints his coat an eerie color- blue beneath and pearl above, practically a figment.  He can still feel the faint stiffness and healing bruises of his bouts over the past several weeks and there are places where the hair has not quite covered the scars especially on the crescent beneath his left eye where the black titan's magic left a festering wound.

There.

He climbs the steep side of the volcano and he comes to the shrines.  They are not entirely familiar to him, with their strange sigils and symbols.  He is drawn though to the blackened one and he knows deep in his gut that the coatings of soot and charcoal are indicative of the one he seeks.  The harsh sun beats down and draws beads of sweat to the surface of his skin, hardly darkening the opalescent strands of his pale hair.  He stops before it, standing square, neck arched as though he faces a challenger.  As though his herd still stands behind him, watching.

"Petty, wretched god!" The words explode in a bellow and his head suddenly stretches up, glaring into the sky where the sun stares down, unconcerned.  "Coward, sneak, child-killer!"

He is no longer still but instead is a whirl of motion as he rears and his fore hooves drop down onto the shrine, crashing into the stone.  It does little but disturb the soot but he can feel the painful reverberation up his forelegs and it is satisfying.

And yet it isn't.

With the bellowed words the rage and agony tear free from the dark of his mind.  The churning flood waters, the broken and bloody bodies bashed onto the rocks, the screams of those washed to the sea.  Beneath the glaring and uncaring sun.

This time his scream is wordless as he wheels and his hinds lash out at the shrine and he feels the twin vibration up his hinds and flaring up his spine.

Words: 539/800
Attacks: 0/3
Setting:  The Veins of the Gods, before the shrine of the Sun God.  It's a brutally hot, clear day with a harsh wind.

@Megaera feel free to have the first go :)