There are many mountains in Helovia, but in the absence of wings this is the only one Volterra can reach the top of without tumbling to a grisly doom. The Earth God's quest rests heavy upon his shoulders, and he cannot help but think he's got off rather easily this time. Especially when compared to the emotional rollercoaster of his previous quest, collecting a couple of items shouldn't be any bother at all, which leads to him second guessing whether he heard the great deity correctly. Could there be hidden meanings that he's missed, subtleties that have flown over his head that will lead the God to laugh him all the way out of the Veins when he returns with the three requested varieties of rock?

The warmonger tries not to think about that, instead focusing on the climb to the top of the Heavenly Fields. This is the highest place he can feasibly reach, so if a stone from here isn't adequate then he's not sure what to do. Unlike most of his quests, Vadir is showing quite the interest in this one - her magpie-like tendencies mean that she loves any excuse to use her keen eyes to hunt for rocks and trinkets, and her perch on Volterra's back is a tall, proud one as she scans the ground around them. Not to be outdone, Vérzés zooms overhead with his eyes rammed downwards in search of the perfect stone to fill the requirements of his bonded's quest. It isn't long before the onyx stallion has red and gold paws thrusting stones into his face, each dragon jostling to outdo his or her sibling by gathering larger and shinier ones that soon begin to resemble boulders.

Eventually the beast pins his ears and barks enough! at the dragons, who scatter with indignant shrieks and drop their smaller stones onto his back with a series of bruising thuds. If Volterra is going to be pedantic, then the Earth God requested that he bring the stones, not his dragons, and he's not going to do anything that jeapordises his opportunity to increase his magical powers. Shaking his head, the Indomitable continues his path, unable to smother the nostalgic smile as he thinks of the last time he was here. Is it too much to hope that he might bump into Isopia again here for a repeat performance? Is it too simplistic to believe that one euphoric night has brought them back to the halcyon days of their youth?

The grin widens, filled with hope and warm memories, and he resumes his search with gusto. It's a chilly evening, a clear sign that it's going to be a cold night, and he's keen to try and find an adequate stone before night falls and brings a halt to his search.

In the midst of their disgruntled bickerings ("my stone bigger" "my stone shinier"), the dragons suddenly fall eerily silent. Volterra, with his eyes trained on the ground and his mind dancing through happy memories, flicks a curious ear towards the quiet that has descended overhead. What is it? he asks them, sure that they'd have been more forceful in their alert had it been anything important or dangerous coming towards them.

There's an odd sensation of emptiness radiating from both of them, disbelief, almost. Then, from Vérzés comes unbridled, uncontainable joy, a sense of happiness so strong it almost knocks Volterra off his feet. Vadir's reaction is more reserved, feigning cold indifference but with an undercurrent of amusement and thinly-veiled interest. What is it? repeats the onyx warlord, reluctant to lift his head when he thinks he's just found a promising-looking stone. The dragons have probably just seen a tasty-looking deer, as nothing but food could possibly fill Vérzés with that amount of delight.

"Look," they say in unison, their voices surprisingly gentle, supportive, affectionate. That in itself is odd, especially from Vadir, who is about as affectionate as a black widow spider. The beast lifts his head, turns slowly, and.....

"Kis hollo!" His greeting is a hearty, joyous one, a smile spreading slowly and uncontrollably across his face. He cannot think of potential awkwardness given their last encounter, not when she's suddenly in front of him and he's almost bowled over as ever by her presence. "Ah, your father has set me a task, you see. I need to find a stone from the top of a mountain, and I'm just trying to choose the perfect one." He's confused even as he speaks, though, as Isopia's appearance isn't normally enough to elicit such reactions inside his companions, and a frown soon replaces the smile. Vadir unleashes a loud bellow of disgust, shoots her red brother a look that clearly says could we have chosen anybody stupider to bond with? then stabs a mental spike hard into Volterra's mind. "Her sides, half-wit. Look."

The stallion's eyes dart from Isopia's face, where they'd automatically landed, towards her sides as instructed. Her swollen sides. Sides that her cloak isn't quite enough to hide, sides full of life, full of their life. The smile returns, and this time it's bright enough to illuminate all of Helovia itself; unreserved in his delight, Volterra bounds forwards, his stone-hunt forgotten. What does more magic, more power, matter when the Mountain is glowing with pregnancy, her belly full of their child? "You're...." He can't get the words out, so overwhelming is his happiness. A foal with Isopia! One to live, to grow and to rule, a king inside her stomach....Before he knows it he's by her side, seeking to wrap his neck around her and pull her close to him. He doesn't consider his movements - they're instinctual, uncontrollable. The euphoria spreading through him knows no bounds, only that he needs to be as close to Isopia as physically possible so he can reassure himself that she and the weight in her womb are real.

Then, the smile falters. Does she normally have the cloak pulled so close around her? And it is rather chilly....in her condition, he cannot take risks. "Are you cold? Here..." A quick mental twist and he's summoned a medium-sized, humanoid golem, glowing with lava. He instructs it to move closer to the giantess at his side, until it stands gormlessly next to her with heat radiating out of its insides. "Can I get you anything? Are you hungry? Thirsty? Tired?" He's babbling, aware that the Mountain does not need his mollycoddling but determined to care for her and her precious cargo to the best of his ability. She's never seen him like this, the caring father, the affectionate and protective lover; it's a side that rarely manifests itself except around his offspring, born or otherwise. Their dams, too, must be prioritised and treated like princesses, especially this one remarkable, beautiful woman.

He hesitates. "You are....glad, aren't you?" In his haste to embrace and tend to her, he hadn't stopped to consider the possibility that she may not see this as good news.

The red dragon waves a paw at Hubris, even as Babel's less-than-friendly reaction sends him reeling away with his mind pulsing with displeasure. Vérzés normally challenges dragons of a superior scale colour to prove that one's hue and size doesn't necessarily equate to strength, but on this occasion he chooses his battles wisely. It's best not to risk causing conflict between Volterra and Isopia again when they've barely repaired the damage from their previous disagreement, so the red allows himself to be dominated by the young male gold and flutters meekly away to a tree branch a good distance away from Babel's, refusing to quite meet the other dragon's eyes in a gesture of respect.

Vadir, in contrast, flashes Babel a toothy smile, ensuring she keeps her body language as indifferent as possible so as to appear aloof and uncaring even as she burns with glee inside. Having recently encountered Dramyrth's irritating unwillingness to submit, she appreciates Babel's behaviour all the more, and approval floats from her nostrils in a smoke cloud as she glides idly around in circles up ahead. Best not to seem too keen...she is a queen, after all.

Volterra is oblivious to the draconic politics occurring inside his head. He's more concerned with keeping as close to Isopia as he possibly can, running his eyes over her swollen sides so he can commit the sight to memory forever. Her confirmation of gladness makes him sag with relief - he had truly feared that this isn't something she wants, due to how her previous pregnancy ended. The grief for his unborn son is still strong inside the mammoth's heart, so he can hardly imagine how Isopia must be feeling. Perhaps, though, this child will help to heal some of the scars left from the last time, not that Volterra thinks this new foal will replace their first son in any way. It can only be good for the Mountain to have a living, healthy foal to remind her that motherhood does not always equal pain, heartache and a pile of rocks in a clearing.

Twins, though...His interest is piqued further, and he steps away to scrutinise her sides even more closely. "I was, yes. I've only sired one set of twins myself, though, so maybe the gene is not as active within me." He frowns slightly, not wishing to give up the idea of twins when it's so freshly entered his mind. Now he thinks of it, given his own status of being a twin and the large number of them in his immediate family, it does seem rather odd that he's not fathered more sets of them. He isn't one to complain, though - if every mother of one of his children had borne twins to add to Kid and Sabre, he'd have a grand total of sixteen offspring already, which might well have sent Isopia fleeing for the hills when he told her.

The beast's eyes dart between the Mountain next to him and the lava-golem standing inoffensively nearby, sending waves of welcome heat across them. "Would you consider joining me in the Dragon's Throat, kis hollo? I am a selfish man....I want you and our child - or children - as close to me as possible." So I can be the father and lover that I wasn't last time. So I can ensure we don't repeat the same mistakes again. So that this child will grow up knowing it's more loved than it can possibly imagine.

Her suggestion of fertility is an interesting one, and he's reminded again that not only will this child be the son or daughter of two fine warriors, it will be the grandchild of a God. The great Earth God, no less. It's impossible not to notice the gigantic deity's genetic influence upon Isopia, with her size and her control over the earth, and he wonders whether those traits will pass down to their offspring as well. It gives him a large swell of pride to realise that he'll be the father to children from two different demi-gods, although he actually employs some semblance of tact for once and decides it best not to blurt this out.

He doesn't realise how heavily his heart is hammering against his chest in anticipation of her response to his question. It's suddenly become so, so important for him to have her close to him in light of this news, because he can't help but associate distance with the start of all their troubles last time. After all, didn't her no-holds-barred pulverising of him, and the ensuing decimation of their relationship, coincide with him joining the Throat and therefore him having less time to see her? Inside Volterra's often illogical mind, there's an intrinsic link between physical distance - Edge or Falls to Throat - with emotional distance from her. When he was an outcast who could go wherever the urge took him, they had no such troubles. Could their last child have been saved if they'd been herdmates and Volterra had been able to explain himself before the Mountain did what she did? If they'd been residing close enough to each other, could they have reconciled their differences earlier rather than letting them fester and driving her to erase all memory of him?

Because of these past events, Volterra wants her as close as possible so he can be the man that she deserves, the man who will dote on her, protect her, love her. Not only that, but he's made a promise to himself to be involved in all of his offspring's lives and he's not the sort of man to break an oath - trekking halfway across Helovia to visit the child will inevitably provide a barrier to their relationship, not to mention the added inconvenience of having to ask the Edge leaders' permission to see his own flesh and blood. He wants to see Isopia more too, of course, and there's something that feels so right about having her in his herd with him. She is the most important woman in his life and yet she lives half a continent away! Ignorant as he can sometimes be, it doesn't occur to him that it may make her uncomfortable to live alongside his other lovers and foals - selfishly, he sees such a large harem-esque family as only a good thing. In his naiive mind he pictures Isopia happily conversing with his other women whilst their foals frolic together in the Throat's sand, as close as any siblings can hope to be.

Her answer, then, is not the one he'd hoped for. Leave the Throat? Had that question been asked a year ago, when he was a stranger in a strange land surrounded by herdmates who disliked and shunned him, he'd have answered yes without a second thought. Now? Now he has responsibilities. Now he has friends, family, loyalties in the desert south. The crown that rests upon his head is not just there to bolster his ego and increase his attractiveness to the opposite gender. It's a solemn vow that he made with the Sun God and the herd itself - to protect it, to grow it, to give every last drop of his blood for those pale sands and its residents. He can't turn his back on that. "Ach, kis hollo, I cannot. The Sun God chose me to rule the Throat, and it's finally returning to some semblance of stability after so many leadership changes since Gaucho's reign. I cannot abandon it, especially not with the threat of Kaos hanging over us like the reaper's blade." He knows that she can say the same thing right back to him, albeit her rank isn't a leadership one, but he can only fix her with his most beseeching gaze and hope that she'll agree to move.

As much as it pains him, he knows he needs to give her an out - he'd hate for her to feel forced into something she doesn't want. "I understand if you would prefer to stay in the Edge, as no doubt your ties there are as strong as mine to the Throat. I would not want you to do something you didn't want to do...but I would dearly love to have you and our child at my side."

His agreement comes as a swift snort. He, too, fell foul of having parents not living anywhere near each other; his father's duties with his herd outside Helovia evidently outweighed his desire to help raise his youngest twins, meaning that Volterra had only his mother and sister's influence for most of his life. Whilst he wouldn't complain about his upbringing (he wouldn't dare, else Confutatis corrode his flesh with a single well-placed bite) he would also have preferred to have Tyradon's input, to know that both his parents cared and that his sire saw him as more than just another number, an equine soldier to add to his holy war.

Once upon a time, Volterra thought very similar about his children. Strong sons to further his empire, pretty daughters to use to bargain with the testosterone-filled princes of other lands. That's what his father no doubt thought of him, yet the beast has found himself realising it's nowhere near as simple as that. His offspring are far more valuable, far more loved, than he'd ever thought possible - they mean the world to him. They're so much more than just the means to an end he'd once imagined them to be, and so he doesn't for a second want them to think that about themselves. He's already made mistakes with his earlier accidental progeny, but has done his best to repair those particular wounds.

After all, isn't it each generation's job to ensure a better life for their children, a life they didn't have themselves? If Volterra has his way, each and every one of his foals will grow up knowing how important they are to him, a task he's already admirably set about achieving with his legions of existing offspring. The one curled like a comma inside Isopia's belly will be no different - he or she (or both) will know from the start how much they mean to their sire. That can only be properly achieved if they all live together as one, which is why he hangs on the Mountain's every word.

I will come with you. His heart soars, and his face splits into a Cheshire grin. Vérzés chirps happily towards Hubris, whilst Vadir sends a silent spasm of pleasure into her bonded's mind - Babel close to hand? Excellent. "Kiváló! You will love the Throat, I'm sure of it." He offers her an affectionate nuzzle to the shoulder - she certainly won't have to worry about the cold when they're in the Throat, and his lava-golem crumbles sadly into dust at their feet as though it realises its task is null and void. "Our Wise ranks are led by Maren the Crownless, and I am sure she will be more than happy to have you as an Apostle. Have you ever seen our church, kis hollo? It is magnificent." That's glowing praise coming from a man rarely impressed by things as none-war-related as buildings. "Unless you would prefer to pursue the path of a warrior - I can certainly vouch for your fighting ability." The smile is slightly thinner now, unsure if he's overstepped a mark by mentioning that particular incident. He does his best to forget about it, because being beaten to a pulp was embarrassing even though he made absolutely no effort to fight back, but his ribs often ache during cold weather as testament to their bad breakage all that time ago.

As soon as he's said the words, he realises the stupidity of them - suggesting she be a warrior whilst pregnant, given how their last child died? Thankfully, the giantess does not seem to take offense to Volterra's inadvertent tact-bypass, confirming that she accepts the position of Apostle. "I understand," he rumbles, glancing keenly down at her swollen sides once again. He can't quite get his head around the sight - Isopia, who he's known since they were both children, pregnant. To think there will soon be a colt or filly running round of the same age that its parents were when they met!

As eager as he is to cross Helovia with the Mountain so he can show her properly around the Throat, the beast has to remember the reason why he came here in the first place. His quest for power, whilst it takes second stage to the news of Isopia's pregnancy, still requires completion. He can't help the sudden daydream that strikes him; returning to the Earth God with his quest complete, Isopia and their foal at his side. He almost swells with joy at the thought! "Before we leave, I need an adequate stone for your father. He also needs sand from beneath the Endless Blue, and a volcanic piece of rock....would you like to come with me when I collect the items? Your company will make the task much more enjoyable." It will be good to spend some time with the Mountain, and hunting for various pieces of rock is much less fun alone. His dragons curtly point out that he's never alone, but he thinks they grasp his main meaning.

Reluctant as he is to peel himself away from Isopia, he has to do so in order to reach down and pick up the stone he'd found just before she arrived. It's small enough to grip between his teeth, surprisingly heavy given its size, and vaguely ovular in shape. Vadir swoops down and takes it from him, nursing it between her large paws - they will leave it in the Throat for safekeeping, given Volterra's lack of storage equipment upon his person.

A wide, genuine smile lights up his white-splashed face as she agrees to join him on his quest. He's already had a little think about where he can collect the rest of the items - the Endless Blue is fairly obvious, yet the volcanic rock takes a tad more musing over. The only volcanic place he can think of is the Veins themselves, and he's not entirely sure if it borders on the insane to try and enter an ominous-looking volcano for the sake of a rock.

Still, that's a problem for a different day. For now Vadir nurses the precious stone - and if she could read Babel's mind she would point out that her red brother is far too small and weak to carry such an important thing, as his poor little arms might well fall from their sockets under the weight of the chosen object - and Volterra is content that he's accomplished at least the first part of his quest. "Igen, let us move." He begins to stride away, crossing over the singed remains of his golem without a thought but ensuring he keeps close enough to Isopia to step in should she show signs of tiring. She's far stronger than that, of course, but it doesn't stop Volterra wanting to minimise as many risks as possible.