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He usually leaves his dragons behind whenever he comes to the Threshold; he is concerned that their presence might terrify any potential recruitees who are unused to the fearsome scaled beasts, making them less likely to join Volterra to the Throat. In his opinion, any horse who dislikes dragons should not be welcomed in his herd, but he has to remind himself that it is not his herd. He cannot decide who is allowed entry - it is simply his job to try and bring home as many as possible. 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. |
@Asteria Welcome to Helovia! :)
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
