The weeks since Aithniel's rise to Sultana have seen a change in the massive black Gladiator. Determined to turn over a new leaf, he has resisted his urge to go to the Threshold and has instead channeled his resources into being the model warrior. He has arranged spars between his underlings, has taken a greater interest in the fortifications of his island home, and has taken a great liking to patrolling the Throat's borders whenever the opportunity arises.

Usually, such patrols are a thankless task. So far, his meanderings have turned up nothing of interest, and he often wonders if they're a waste of time. After all, given the fact that the Throat is surrounded by sea, the only way of accessing it is by sky. There's little chance of a vengeful bear or pack of wolves entering the land and terrorizing its inhabitants, meaning Volterra's patrols are usually in vain. Nor do many roving outcasts tend to turn up and pose a threat to the citizens he's sworn to protect.

Until today.

His dragons are his tireless partners in crime when it comes to patrolling, and their eagle eyes are valuable assets. It's Vadir who spots the butterfly-winged intruder and helps direct her mammoth bonded towards it, sending him an array of sharp images to guide the way. He breaks into a thunderous canter, sand flying from his hooves and muscles flexing beneath his flesh as he hurdles towards the stranger. Part of him hopes it's a massive stallion with murder on his mind, just so he can have the pleasure of taking him down and proving to the herd that they've made the right choice in keeping him as Gladiator.

Alas, he is to be disappointed. The 'intruder' is a young mare, decidedly nonthreatening. The Gladiator deflates slightly, blowing heavy breaths from his nostrils as he approaches in time to hear her words. "What is it you wish to speak about?" he rumbles, fixing the mare with his penetrating crimson gaze. His disappointment in the fact she's not an invading rogue soon subsides, and he assesses her with interest. He's never seen wings like hers before, and he finds himself hyponotised by them. They look too fragile to hold her weight, yet they obviously must have, else how would she have got here? "I am Volterra, the herd's Gladiator."