From mighty king, he has dropped to roaming pauper. From a Sultan with an empire at his back, he has fallen to a lonely vagabond with nothing but his possessions and his dragons to keep him company. He misses the Throat so much it actually aches, like a knife inserted forcefully into his gut. He finds it hard to believe that he once cheished his outcast lifestyle and was loathe to give it up; how did he cope in the days before he had a crown upon his head? Despite his knowledge that he is a great warlord, the Indomitable, he does not feel like he has any purpose now that his throne has gone.

He wanders the long days away, feeling the miles flow away beneath his massive feet until his rippling muscles ache and his sturdy limbs beg for mercy. The dragons rarely leave his side, and Vadir is usually to be found sitting proudly on his hindquarters whilst her red brother glides along overhead. Today is no different as the onyx monolith grazes in the meadow, his mind a roiling storm as he contemplates all the ways he'd love to destroy Kaos and reclaim the Throat.

"Not alone," come the voices of his dragons. The stallion glances up to see a hybrid mare in the distance, and her scent is a familiar one. A small smile plays across his features, although it does not quite reach the cold crimson of his eyes - it's Auriel, one of the first people he ever met when he was a colt. That had been back when a crown was nothing but a dream, when he had no dragons and no magic, when he was nothing. He has come a long way and he knows he should be grateful for what he has, but Volterra is an avaricious beast and he laments what he's lost instead. "Auriel?" The thunderous growl of his voice sounds across the land as he meanders towards her. She is attractive, certainly, and he feels a stirring like he's not had for a while. "Long time no see." He fixes his attention on her, and his dragons do likewise.

Her voice is a caress to his ears, and Volterra wonders whether it is morally wrong to admire a mare's beauty when the apocalypse rages on around them. It seems so very Volterra to focus on sex even as the end of days nears them; he certainly has his priorities straight. Yet this is one of the only ways he knows to distract himself from what's going on around him. He needs all the distraction that he can get, else he wallow in a pool of misery and fade away to nothing.

The Indomitable does not wallow. He goes about his life like normal, conquering upon the battlefield and in the bedroom. He plots Kaos' demise in his head, rages against the dying of the light and the loss of his home, but outwardly he appears as composed and normal as ever.

Auriel exhales some smoke, and the stallion remembers how he used to admire that skill of hers when they were children and he lamented his lack of magic and companions. Now he's loaded with them, yet true satisfaction has come from the deeds done with his body - he rarely uses his assets in battle, but has still risen to warlord. Everything else is an added extra, even if the idea of losing his dragons makes him physically ache. "I should think so," huffs Vadir, curling up tighter upon his back. At her question, the beast glances sadly around. "I was Sultan of the Throat, you know. We were growing, we were getting stronger again. Now....I have little to do but wander and plot how I will destroy Kaos for what he's taken from me." The raw passion in his voice is clear to hear. "You?"