The trees at the edge of the mountains grew like sentinels, reaching their thick branches like the touch of curious children towards the heavens. Their leaves grew in various shapes and sizes, casting an array of hues among the spaces between each finger tip, as well as upon the forest floor. The earth was carefully designed with thick underbrush ringing each tree, as if the flora itself was attempting to offer protection from the wildlife, which seemed abundant. The rustle of rabbits among the fern, and the sound of avian families were clear in the atmosphere. There was an overflow of life in this forest, that much was clear. There was a path carved out from many generations of hooves, marking the trail that would lead to the eventual lands of Helovia, whether the travelers believed in such a place or not. It is upon this path that Horus Tarkus found himself on this late Summer eve. The sun was about two hours from set, and the light filtering in through the trees dappled his dark bay coat deliciously. His sooty pillars brushed aside the stray ferns that grew alongside the path. His audits flicked, listening to the faint sound of thunder in the distance behind him, catching the light sound of a drizzle from above, though the trees grew so thick not a single drop made it to his skin.

The stallion had spent much of his early youth listening to the Shaman tell her stories of a land by the name of Helovia. A place where equines bore strange spirals curling forward from their fore-locks, and mighty beasts bore wings that lifted them to the sky. Horus had always thought of such things as a bit of rubbish, some story created out of senility and a need to captivate the children for a day. It was not that he held any disrespect for the old mare; quite the contrary. Her recanting of the herd's history had been his favorite way to pass the time, though her firm belief in such exotic magics were foreign to him. Their herd had been simple, and usually kept to themselves. He did not rule magic out all together, that would have been naive; he simply didn't think that it existed in such an extent that she believed. Horus found comfort in the logic of history, and when he had learned all he could of his own, he found himself drawn towards the same stories he had heard as a colt. It was that thirst for knowledge, the lust for new histories that brought him along the path to Helovia today. His belief in the land could be called shaky at best, but he felt a draw to it nonetheless. Even if they did not hold all these fantastical beasts, this land was new, and held all kinds of possibilities. He had seen many of his friends make the trek to these strange lands and not return; if anything, he might find solace in knowing where they had gone.

As the foliage grew thick and the trees huddled together, the young stallion noticed a change in the air. The humidity of the light rain seemed to have left him, and the sound of the thunder storm had faded into nothing, though the voices of his animal companions carried on as strong as ever. He did not recall passing through any sort of gate, or any white light. He did not feel any different, and could not place the exact moment when he had crossed. The inability to pinpoint when his world shifted made Horus uneasy. Still, the birds seemed as merry as ever, and as a hare crossed his path, tail twitching idly, he found his fears settling. Surely no place that would cause danger and alarm would leave such attentive critters in a state of serenity. He let forth a long sigh from his nares, the air traveling up his striking white blaze as he closed the blue orbs that rested in his skull. He breathed deeply of the forest around him, allowing the entirety of his lungs to be filled with sweet oxygen, the scents and the sensations that surrounded him. As the stallion meditated, all sense of fear left his weary bones. He had been traveling for a long time, and with the sun nearing its end for the day, he felt as if his mind was wearing thin. He would travel as far as the light would allow him to tonight, and then he would make his bed wherever he felt was safest.

The stallion opened his eyes once more and continued forward, adjusting to the strange feeling that prickled at his skin. Perhaps it was the sudden shift from humidity to dry heat, but the trees offered ample shade, and if it were sweltering, he was not aware of it; not in the dying rays of the day, at least. He traveled a good kilometer more before his mind whispered sweet nothings of a warm bed of grass and a drink to quench his thirst. Aye, water seemed like a mighty good thing indeed. He would find himself a place to nurse his parched throat and then he would bed down for the night. Whatever Helovia might have in store for him may have to wait until morning.

Horus did not want to stray far from the path, but it appeared he would have needed to do so in a dozen yards despite his desires. The trail had lead to a large clearing and any of the numerous paths that branched off from it could have lead him anywhere. He gave a soft sigh, exhaling the smallest bit left in his lungs before gathering another deep breath. He stilled his being, allowing all other senses to fade, save for one. He focused his audits, swiveling them in an attempt to catch the sound of water. It would do him no good to wander in any direction if it was the wrong one. He was hoping that if he could gather a hint of navigation, he may be able to strike good luck and find water quickly.

---
Word Count :: 1028
Muse :: Alright
Notes :: Have at! He's going to be cautious of any equine he meets, but particularly any unicorns or pegasi, so I heartily encourage you to reply with those!

Come ride with me through the veins of history. I'll show you how God falls asleep on the job. The tribrid had decided to make another try at recruiting another member into the Dragon's Throat. He wanted to try to bring a new member into the Dragon's Throat, to prove himself in the face of his leaders. Wings were folded neatly against his side as he trotted into the Threshold. His large form moved easily along the path, though he had to duck more often than a horse smaller than him would have to along the same path, merely because of his height. Sturdy black hooves thudded along the ground as his head dropped to nibble at some grass shoots. His head was left lowered, as it was easier to move about that way. His form was long-legged, covering quite a distance with a few strides. His head jerked up as the scent of another horse reached his nose. The stallion began to walk more quickly towards the source of the scent. He saw another stallion, appearing to be about his age. He moved towards the stallion, head held regally but kind as he smiled. "Greetings there. My name is Hector. I am a Warrior of the Dragon's Throat, one of the herds that resides here. Might I ask your name?" He said, inclining his head towards the other stallion. His fiery orange eyes appraised the other stallion, noting that he held no wings or horns. A typical equine. Interesting. Eh he was part normal equine, part Pegasus and part unicorn. He had no room to judge anyone for their species. He kept the gentle smile on his face. Veri kept himself silent, invisible to all eyes excluding his own. The boggart usually made comments in his mind while Hector talked to other equines, pegasi and unicorns around Helovia. "blah blah"

There existed a small space inside Horus’ mind that bred a quiet fear; any equine, horned or winged aside, could be dangerous, and he was in no state to do any sort of territorial battle. This was a small whisper in the back of his mind as he attempted to hone in on the sounds around him, eventually closing his orbs to do so. The air was becoming still, as the quiet peace between the day-dwelling creatures and those who stalked the night traded places. He felt a kind breeze across his shoulders from what could have been the east, if he was correct about his bearings. It had been hard to keep track of them as he wound through the forest that allowed him into Helovia. If he was a bit turned around, the stallion would have not been the least bit surprised. His audits flicked and swivelled atop his cranium, taking in all the information they could. In the dying rays of the sun, his blood bay coat radiated a rich colour.

He sighed, just about to give up when he heard a rustling straight in front of him. Something large was coming down the path. It had to be of equine origin, or something of equally large measure, as no small creature would be able to carry sound as well as this one did. The stallion opened his eyes in time to meet the gaze of his first Helovian.

The brute was massive, standing easily two hands taller than he, and blessed with rippling muscle. Though simply the size of the creature was nothing to sniff at in comparison to his other features. If one did not account for his strange markings, which consisted of an amber fire licking at the throat of his liver chestnut coat and the choppy blaze across the front of the stallion’s face, and completely forgetting the subtle white ring around one fore, one was left with three very distinct features. Horus wasn’t sure what caught his eye first; the massive speckled wings or the two bone protrusions from the stallion’s face. He saw from a distance that the creature held something that akin to a dramatic lion’s tail. Just as Horus’ own coat shone brilliant in the dying light, so too did this stud. The coat of the approaching stallion blazed like the fire it must have surely been born from, dancing across the copper and gold tones of his mane and tail, reflecting what Horus could only think of as embers in his eyes. For a first encounter, this was rather intimidating.

Horus straightened himself to his full height of 16 hands, though he knew that it would do little. He prepared himself for any sign of attack, but was relieved when the stud came in peace. "Greetings there. My name is Hector. I am a Warrior of the Dragon's Throat, one of the herds that resides here. Might I ask your name?" So this massive creature was trusted with the name ‘Hector’. The dark bay stallion flicked his sooty banner behind him, mulling over the question posed from the warrior before him. He had been introduced as such, and surely such a title was well earned and deserved the utmost respect. Horus relaxed his muscles and spoke freely, offering the same kind smile that was given him.

”You may call me Horus Tarkus, though Horus is just fine. I come from beyond your lands, so you must forgive me if I am lacking in knowledge of your customs. If you are a warrior of this Dragon’s Throat, it is no doubt that you are a noble one, and I am honoured to meet your acquaintance.” He dipped his skull to show respect to his rank. Still, he could not help but be baffled by the sight of his wings, of the bone decorating his features. To know for certain that all of the fables he grew up hearing from the Shaman were, indeed, a great history, was mind boggling. To exist in such a way meant to learn the ways of their being, and to do so meant to absorb their history in it’s entirety. The thought of the extent of such knowledge was both unimaginably exciting and stifling. It would be quite a task to learn all that there could be here, but that had never stopped Horus from attempting to take on a challenge before, and it certainly wouldn’t stop him now.

”I was actually about to search for water, as my travels have left me quite parched. Would you happen to know of the best place to drink, Hector? And would you be so kind as to show it to me?” His audits flicked as the sun finally made it’s last goodbyes to the world for the evening and the purple glow of dusk settled in. The best way to be able to understand this creature would be to ask questions and get to know him and his history. If perhaps he could know that, it might prepare him for what else may lay within Helovia. After all, if this was only just the beginning, he could use all the preparation that he could get.

===
Word Count :: 869
Muse :: Fair
Notes :: Thank you! This should be lots of fun, I'm quite excited.

Come ride with me through the veins of history. I'll show you how God falls asleep on the job. A smile graced the features of the large stallion at the other stallion's words of being a noble one. "Nice to meet you, Horus." He said, ruffling his wings slightly as he felt a pinion feather distort in position. Moving his head around towards the feather that was causing said issues, he lightly tugged and the feather came out easily. Dropping the feather to the ground, his ears perked as the other stallion asked about where he could find water. "There is a stream not far from here actually, one that runs through this place which is known as the Threshold into Helovia. Come, follow me and as we walk we can discuss the herd I serve, should you be interested to learn of the Dragon's Throat." He said, beginning to move off. Glad to finally have grabbed a potential recruit for the first time in quite a little while, the stallion used his fire magic to create some little horses that trotted in front of them. Those little horses were made of flame, and would burn one or both of them should they touch them. After the little horses had been trotting in front of them for a short while, he extinguished them as he figured there was no need for them anymore. "So how did you come to find Helovia?" He asked as the two stallions began to move towards the stream that ran not far from where Horus had been wandering. If he had wandered just a bit further, he would've found the water he was searching for. And if Horus wanted, the liver stallion would also give him information on the Dragon's Throat. "blah blah"

horus tarkus History, despite it's wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again. The wary stallion watched as Hector preened himself, lightly tugging at a feather from his added limb. Horus couldn’t help but cringe just slightly as the offending digit (if one could call it such a thing) came loose and was left to float to the ground. He fathomed that such a feat hurt, at least a little, though the large stallion before him gave no indication of any discomfort at the removal. In fact, Hector seemed to let forth a sigh of relief. He shifted on his pillars, remembering the feeling of having burs stuck beneath his hooves, up against his softest bits, in places he could never get. He imagined having to pluck a feather like that caused equally as much discomfort, so in essence, perhaps it was much more satisfying to remove the feather than to let it continue to disturb him; after all, birds plucked feathers all the time. It was a foreign concept, the wings in general. The horns, perhaps, Horus could get used to easily, the strange markings more so, but the wings… He brushed off the thought, pricking forth his audits as the stud began to speak once more, mentioning a water source, and offering to expound upon the herd he had mentioned earlier. A brilliant interest gleamed in the stallion’s blue eyes at the thought of learning, if only just a very brief segment, of the Dragon’s Throat herd’s history. His thirst for knowledge and his hunger for the past lead him to eagerly nod his head. “Yes, of course; lead the way.” Then, a very strange thing occurred. Hector seemed to give some minor indication (or perhaps he had not and Horus was letting the logic in his mind place an action that was not there to help him make sense of what he was seeing) and suddenly there bounded forth some small  horses, as if they suddenly came to life in front of them. If that were not the strange part, it would have been that these creatures were birthed entirely from flame.  Horus took a few steps back, startled at the sudden creation of this kind of life. The stallion paused, examining the tiny fire colts at a distance. They seemed to dance, their flames flickering and leaving ember trails in the air as they moved. Horus felt himself being drawn forward, cautiously lifting his pillars as he pulled himself closer to the spectacle in front of him. He must have looked a right sight, with his head hung low, in a sort of mockery of a stalking position, akin to an unbalanced wild cat. As the white blaze across his face reflected the soft orange light, he felt true heat come from these beasts. If he had any reservations as to whether or not this magic held true fire to them, he had none of them now. Just as he was getting close enough to feel the twinge of his whiskers feeling the shock of singe, Hector snuffed them out. The effect was startling, if not more so than when they had been sprung to life. The absence of light plunged his senses into darkness and the sudden onslaught of smoke into his nares forced the stallion to pull back forcefully. His front pillars came back off the ground in fright, causing the rest of his body to shock back a foot as he pulled away. The whole sight must have been quite entertaining for Hector, even if he did not comment on it. As they continued to advance, Horus was delighted to see that the stream he had been listening for was not far off from where they had been. The dense collection of trees and undergrowth acted as a plush green barrier, nearly sound-proofing the water source until you were almost upon it, hearing the flow only seconds before sighting it. It was here, as they approached their destination that Hector ventured to ask what brought this strange stallion to his land. Horus stepped forward to the stream, lowering his cranium and drinking deeply from the chilled liquid, letting the icy fingers lurking within caress the inner workings of his being. He paused, letting his thoughts gather. What would he tell this stallion? What could he say that would not be offensive? He hadn’t expected any of this to be real, and he certainly did not want to insult his gracious host. It seemed like Horus mulled the question over for a long time before responding. “To be quite honest with you, Hector, it’s an odd story. Please forgive me for any ignorance or lack of grace in my social etiquette as I tell you this; the whole evening has been much more than I anticipated.” Horus shifted on his pillars, his banner swaying behind him as he took a deep breath to recant his journey to the stallion he may soon be fortunate enough to call friend, if not also herd-mate. “I grew up in a land outside of Helovia, but that much you’ve probably found to be clear. I made my home with a nomadic herd, and we chased the seasons of spring and summer, following the path that our ancestors mapped before us to keep the good weather. Our folk were never made to last well through the harsh winters, and before our herd dedicated themselves to this path, we would lose many of our young and old to the terrible conditions. At least, that is our history according to our Shaman. She is,” It is here in his tale that he paused, thinking deeply about how to describe this mare, who meant so much to him.   “She is the wisest of our herd, and a collector of our history, as well as the histories of other places. She has the most incredible sense of humor, and light, and wonder, and she instills this in our children. At the very least, she instilled it in me. It is from her that I grew up listening to the stories of your land, of a place where fantastic things happened, of beasts with wings, and horses who bore the spirals that indicated their rank across their faces. Some of these things I’m not sure are true, and to be fair and honest with you, I didn’t believe her. I always felt that her stories were just that; stories to placate the young ones when their parents needed to know exactly where they were and what they were doing, knowing they would be safe. But it is from spending so much time with her that I cultivated a love for history, and when I had grown old enough to be able to tell the story of my herd forwards and backwards, of each individual we had, I felt the pull to something different. I’m not sure why it was Helovia that my mind chose, though I try to logic it to be a quest to find out the truth. After all, I had many friends who wandered across the bridge to your realm, and the thought of knowing what truly happened to them found itself buried into my skull as a comfort.  I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, given all of the things I was told as a young colt, and to be fair I don’t remember most of it, though I can tell you I remember the impression it left me with was tall tales.” Horus chuckled. “As you can clearly see, this is all quit new to me, and if there are many more like you within Helovia, I think it may take me some getting used to. But that,” He let out a long breath, “Is how I came to be within your realm, Hector. As humble a beginning as I could have, I suppose.” The stallion shifted again upon his pillars, watching the stud before him for any signs of distress, or interest. He wanted to gauge what this noble warrior thought of him before he dared to ask questions regarding what this land was like. He was hoping that he had not been too cruel to his interpretation of Helovia, and that he would not be thought daft for not knowing much, or for his former lack of belief. And if he was honest with himself, there was still a lack of belief, that perhaps he had fallen asleep in that clearing and that this was all some incredible dream. === Word Count :: 1409 Muse :: Fairly good Notes :: Sorry this is so late! I started writing it and then fell asleep, and yesterday was my birthday so I didn’t have time to sit down at all. I hope you like it and forgive me! ^.^; "Talk."

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Come ride with me through the veins of history. I'll show you how God falls asleep on the job. The stallion noticed the other stallion's interest in his flame horse. "Sorry about that sudden snuffing out of them. Didn't mean to startle you." He said quietly, inclining his head towards the bay stud before explaining a bit more. "I posses magic, which often appears in horses here in Helovia. The Sun God gifted me with the powers of fire, which manifests in the flame-horses I can make." The stallion was quick to explain. Their hooves continued on the path, though Hector showcased no more magic. They came upon the water shortly, and the stallion ducked his head to get a drink as well from the icy water. The shade of the Threshold felt good after living most of his life here in Helovia in the heat of the Dragon's Throat. He listened attentively to the other stallion's story of how he came to find Helovia. "That's quite a different story than my own. And a less obnoxious one at that." He spoke with a slight chuckle. The liver stallion didn't offer up any information on his past, as he preferred to not talk about it. "Well, shall we head towards the Dragon's Throat? I'm sure you are eager to meet the rest of the herd." He stated, flexing his wings before taking another drink of the water. He stood up straight, and out of habit his wings unfurled slightly to make himself seem larger. Hopefully Gaucho would accept an equine into the herd. He'd seen non-pegasi and unicorn horses around the herd before. Though Horus would need a key to get into the Throat... since he didn't have wings or anything. The warrior made a move towards the direction of the Dragon's Throat, eager to return home and show his new friend the lands. "blah blah"

horus tarkus History, despite it's wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again. As the strong liver stallion stretched out his wings, Horus shifted. It was clear that the stud did not feel comfortable discussing his past, and while the young equine was indeed the curious sort, he had never been one to pry in his pursuits to satiate his thirst for knowledge. The way that the alicorn fluffed his feathers and puffed his chest signaled his eagerness to be off. He voiced as much when indicating to Horus that he must have been just as eager as he to return to the Dragon’s Throat. While he was indeed interested in meeting the entirety of this young creature’s herd, he was far more interested in getting a well deserved night’s rest. He had been traveling for days on end, and today had been no different. It was clear, however, that he would have needed to travel some distance more before they would be able to bed down. Horus steadied himself, taking a deep breath of the forest air, letting it fill his lungs in preparation. He had to build up his will to continue to move his legs, as the consistent movement had slowly built a burn in his bones. Finally, he bobbed his cranium, allowing his blue orbs to rest for a moment before responding. “Yes, I am quite eager to see your home, Hector. More so, I suppose I’m looking towards a comfortable night’s sleep so that I might enjoy the day meeting your herd-mates.” He flicked his banner from behind as he moved forward, as if that would help his mind accept his decision to dismiss thoughts of sleep for now. If he would be taking the time to travel, he might as well make sure that he was going to enjoy the company. His mind thought back to what the winged stallion had mentioned about his fire colts. A gift from the sun god, he had said. The entire thought of such deities brought amusement to his sights; Horus had never been much for legend and myths like such. He had never had anything truly to spend time believing in. Sure, like any colt he had learned of gods and goddesses, of strange beasts who created all things, but he wasn’t sure if he truly believed those stories he had grown up hearing. He could recite most of them, as they were an important part of his history, but they had always felt like stories. Like Helovia was just a story. He still had much to learn. “If you would be so kind, Hector, as you have offered to speak of your Dragon’s Throat, would you enlighten me about your herd? As well as your magic,” he asked, becoming quite sheepish. “I’d hate to appear ignorant, but it turns out that is indeed what I am. If you could explain to me more about this, I would be ever so grateful.” === Word Count :: 477 Muse :: Fair Notes :: Sorry this is so short, but I figured since we were just wrapping up, it would be okay "Talk."

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