So he is alone as he prowls through the forest, a blackened tower of muscle and brawn who treads these paths like he does it every day. Without the dragons to scout above the trees, the stallion is forced to use his own senses to pick up the presence of nearby horses. Finally his flared nostrils detect the aroma of mare, and he alters his path towards her. He doesn't just favour mares because he thinks there is a chance he will be able to bed them in the future - he just finds them easier to talk to than men, although he knows he needs to fill his warrior ranks with strong stallions at some point.

He prowls closer until the woman is in sight, and takes a moment to assess her. Black - the best colour to be, of course - and powerfully-built, with a curved horn. "Hello," he rumbles; he attempts to keep his voice higher-pitched and calmer than usual so as not to appear too daunting to this mare, but it is impossible to keep the gravelly, masculine rasp out of his tones. "My name is Volterra, Gladiator of the Dragon's Throat herd. Is it safe to assume that you are looking for a home?" He fixes her with his penetrating red gaze.

At least the dragons are absent today, he thinks.

She introduces herself as Asteria, and confirms that she is looking for a home. "Welcome to Helovia, Asteria," he rumbles, dipping his massive head in what he hopes is a friendly nod of greeting. "The Dragon's Throat is one of four herds in these lands. It is the southernmost territory, and consists of a large island joined to the mainland by a magical bridge." He does not mention the overpowering summer heat - he has all but forgotten about that now there is a pleasant autumn breeze blossoming around it, lessening the searing discomfort of Tallsun.

After a pause to glance at her, he continues. "We are going through a period of transition at the moment after our long-time leader passed away, however our new queen is both competent and able." A small smile flutters across the scarred planes of his face as he thinks of Sikeax - how she has risen in his estimations since their first meeting all those years ago! "If you are interested, you would be more than welcome to make the Throat your home." The beast looks back to her, idly flicking an ear as a fly attemps to land on it.

He is just as surprised as her when she agrees to join, although a blossom of euphoria buds in his chest. He did it. His first recruit, one large mental block overcome. Hopefully this will help prove to the herd that Sikeax has not made a foolish mistake in inviting the blackened leviathan into the Throat as their Gladiator - he has accomplished something outside the battlefield, something far harder than any fight he's participated in.

"Excellent," he rumbles, and begins to walk at a slow plod. A gesture of his head asks the mare to follow, so he may lead her back to their home. "The bridge is enchanted so it only appears to those with special keys. Pegasi, of course, can simply fly to the island, however us wingless folk must rely on the keys in order to gain entry." It is one hell of a security measure, and a very successful one at that. Invading forces would need to either swim or fly towards the island, unless they'd obtained a Throat key by force. Either way, it gives the Throat a huge advantage against invaders, something the war-minded Volterra greatly approves of.

As they walk, the giant looks down to Asteria. "Tell me about yourself, Asteria. Where are you from? Is there any particular area you excel at? As Gladiator, it is my job to marshal the warriors of the herd, however we also have entire ranks dedicated to healers, crafters, and spies." The beast tries to get to know these other ranks when he can, so he is not simply a two-dimensional warrior. Healers, he knows, can be just as important as soldiers when it comes to the battlefield.

They walk, and the goliath alters his path in order to lead them the fastest way back to the Throat. It is quite a trek, but he knows the way by memory now. For the first time, he ponders over what will happen when he returns to the herd with their newest addition - will he be met with adulation, or boredom? Volterra prays that there will be some interest in his first recruit, that the herd might start taking notice of their newest Gladiator instead of treating him with contempt for the crime of not having wings.

The thinly-veiled racism reminds him of his father, and he tries to smother the thought with as much force as he can muster.

Asteria speaks, and the stallion's ears prick with interest as she reveals a desire to be a warrior. He finds his gaze travelling across her, using his most dispassionate gaze - looking at what could make her a fighter, not the curves and muscles blessed upon every woman that usually incite such a primitive and natural reaction from him. She looks strong enough, sturdy and with foot-feathers reminiscent of some of Volterra's half-draft children, and his subtle appraisal of her finds her satisfactory. Yes, she could make a fine soldier with some training. "Excellent - we need more warriors." This is just an assumption because he hasn't actually formally met with the warriors he does have, but the more the merrier! "Once you are settled in to herd life, I would be happy to spar with you and judge your abilities. I'm sure your training will come flooding back once you are on the battlefield again." Even if he goes weeks between battles, the second his opponent comes charging at him, his memory simply clicks into place. It is instinctual, primal, beautiful.

After a few moments in silence as he negotiates a particularly irksome patch of thorns (he wishes Vadir was nearby to incinerate them for him), he looks back to Asteria. "Have you any other talents?" Perhaps she is a healer as well as a warrior, or perhaps she possesses hidden magic running through her veins.