So why is the prospect of a herd meeting making him so damn nervous?

His heart hammers a drumbeat against his chest and he feels oddly sick; even his limbs are tingling with anticipation. Feeding off his odd mood, his dragons are fractious and boisterous, pelting through the air next to him and wrestling each other in furious bouts of snarling and hissing. Calm yourselves, he commands. This is the first time he will be meeting the majority of the herd, and he does not want his dragons setting a bad example. With growls of disgust, they separate and fly on either side of him, soaring low against the ground like glimmering bullets.

It is Sikeax's cry that has summoned the blackened warlord. It is her voice that has brought on this sudden fit of apprehension as the goliath steps into the unknown. He is only just growing used to herd life - sharing grazing spots and resisting the urge to bite anybody who comes near his favoured ones, being around other horses for longer than a few minutes - so his zen is all out of whack. His first herd meeting is just another step, and one that makes him genuinely worried for the first time in his life. What if they all hate him? What if he says something stupid? What if he does not command their respect because he is new to the herd?

With a wry smile, the mammoth stallion reasons that it is best he gets these anxieties out of the way whilst he is Gladiator rather than king. This is all a learning curve for him, one that, given his youth and life as an outcast, he is keen to embark upon. Vadir lands heavily onto his back and stands tall and proud, a great hulking beast of a dragon riding upon a great hulking beast of a horse. "They will respect more when they see you bonded to me," she purrs, and the colossus is inclined to agree. Vérzés hums sadly and slows his flight so as to hide out of sight from the watchful eyes of the herd - he fears it will harm Volterra's reputation to be bonded to a mere red - but the stallion firmly commands that he stays close, smothering his companion's protestations. You are not shameful, he reassures the dragon. You are part of me, and the herd must see you as well as Vadir. You're not my dirty little secret - you are every bit as strong as she is. This earns a joyous snort from the red, and an irritated growl from the gold.

Finally he's there, and it is surreal to see Sikeax standing as queen. He flashes her a smile as he halts beside Tyrath, and is pleased to see the boy growing strong. "Szia, fiam." Hello, son. "I hope your father living in the same herd as you isn't going to cramp your style." A wolfish grin spreads across his jowls as he attempts to touch his muzzle affectionately to Tyrath's shoulder. It fades as Sikeax begins to speak, and his ears ram forwards to give her his full attention. Now he's here, his nerves have somewhat abated and he feels quite calm, although evidence of his anxiety lingers in the form of the sweat that beads across the bulging muscles of his body.

His heartbeat increases again when Sikeax introduces him, although he hides it well and stands tall and strong to emphasise the power etched through his limbs as well as the golden dragon sat imperiously upon his back. The queen suggests he meets with his warriors, so with a curt nod the stud addresses the herd for the first time. "Warriors, I will call a meeting in the next few days to discuss how we intend to work." Despite the worry in his chest, his voice is strong and authorative. It is unwavering, commandeering. He has to be strong in front of the warriors who will no doubt be sizing him up, judging who Sikeax has brought into the herd - he cannot show any weakness, any chink in his armour.