An afflicted form moved through the wood, tall gilded frame left low in a saunter through the shadows. Since the meeting with the spy who'd tried to rip him from his herd, the golden had wandered alone, ashamed of the violent mood swings that wracked him. The Ice Demon's grasp shook the steadfast foundation he'd always had, and this sort of pain was not something the LionHeart had ever dealt with. When he was young, he'd taken his anger and fear out with blows and bloodshed, not caring for the lives he took or scars he left. Now, things were different. He had grown immensely loyal, and it seemed no matter how hard he would try to protect the things he loved, something would always get in the way.

The faint rustle of snow broke the silence. Frosted eyes rose from the ground to spot the chestnut outline of a pegasus in the distance. Blond sides heaved a pained sigh, as if he was some wounded soldier finding his way home. Raising his posture into a more attentive state, he made his way towards the mare. As he got closer, he allowed himself a more thorough look. She was a sight to behold; sturdy yet elegant, doused in ivory and rich reds. Brilliant pools of lavender were just visible upon her blazed face. It was heartening to see such beauty in times of pain, but even such sights did little to ease the weight of his burdens. Weary limbs came to a stop not far from the vision, a voice in his head muttering that she'd better not be as rude as the last one he'd met. "Hello, miss. I hope I have not disturbed you." He greeted the dove, probably interfering with her own journey, though she held the fresh scent of a newcomer. Forcing what sorrow he could from his troubled visage, he went on. "I am Leander the LionHeart, Sultan of the Dragon's Throat herd."

Those pretty violet eyes soon locked on to him, and for a few moments it seemed as though the older mare's seasoned pools were ripping him apart; studying every aspect of his weathered hide. What must she think of him? Some large beast, wandering alone in the wood? The pretty thing did not seem frightened like so many mares often did at the sight of him, nor did she eye him with any sultry heat; the likes of which he'd only experienced a few times, and none which he'd indulged. Apprehension grasped him as her lilting voice met the air.

The bronze did not miss the sarcasm which tinted her words. He fought a grimace, hoping dearly to whatever Gods might look kindly on him that she was not like the last mare. No; he could not stand another earful of sharp criticism or unwarranted insults. The charger would much rather turn tail and leave the lass here in the forest, let her find her way to the Edge or the Foothill's on her own. Blue eyes could not bear to watch another girl be frightened by him or believe that he was some sort of monster.

"I only mention my title as it was assigned to me, miss. I mean no arrogance by it. I help lead the herd, alongside Kri the Resolute, a good mare." Cream locks shifted as he dropped his skull in his own show of respect, words of neutrality leaving his mouth in explanation. It was not as if he chose the title, after all. It was given to him, and what would anyone do in such a situation but take it? He did not hunger for power like a greedy king; only wished to serve the herd the best he could. He'd pledged himself to the Throat. It's sands were his home, and he would gladly die to keep it safe. There was no shame in the title of Sultan, no matter the jealousy or preconceived notions it might invoke in those who did not know better.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Aitheria. You are in Helovia now. This wood we stand in is the Threshold, the gateway most newcomers pass through. To the Northwest is the World's Edge herd, led by the equine lady Mirage. To the Northeast is the Windtossed Foothill's herd, led by Svetlana the StormChaser, Evers the Able, and Archibald the Dauntless. To the South is my own home, the Dragon's Throat, lead by Kri the Resolute, and myself." After giving the winged lady a brief description of the herds, the golden paused, waiting for her to formulate questions. She'd likely either want to know more of the groups or just be off on her own way. Some found no solace in the company of a herd, and at times Leander understood that well.


[ooc: Yep! They are temporarily blue now - though normally they are gold. ;D]

The girl was quick to retract her words. A quizzical look fell across his features. He had shown no signs of anger. Maybe the cold blue of his eyes and the frost on his wings had added more intimidation to his appearance then he'd thought. The bronze brute kept his place as Aitheria's dainty hooves slipped backwards, only staring at her with something akin to a plea in his gaze. Would she run off into the dark of the wood, as he had thought of doing only moments before? He did not want for her to go, though besides the name she'd gave she was only a stranger. Staying mostly to the wilds was a lonely thing, and he longed for company when he was not fighting fits of rage.

"It is good to meet a lady with such manners. Please forgive my awkwardness, I have only held the title of Sultan a short time. I was only a soldier prior to that, and a rogue even longer before. I have not really been myself lately." He spoke, some warmth easing back into his face as he tried to explain the strangeness of his current state. He did not mention the entity which held grip on his soul; for the lovely girl would surely be off into the depths of the forest if he had.

Leander did not miss the way the mare's lavender eyes searched the surroundings. No matter what he did, she would probably remain distrustful. Slowly, his own pointed legs backed away a step, giving the lady the space she seemed to need. To his surprise, she did not question of the herds or their lands, but spoke of a darker wondering. At this, Leander smiled. It might have come off as malicious, for him to be smiling at talk of the 'worst of this beautiful place'. But it was uncanny how she went straight for such a question, easily asking about the one thing she probably should be most concerned for. A low chuckle left his throat of it's own accord for a brief moment, and then the LionHeart began. "You are very intuitive, my lady. There was recently a battle, in which members of all of the herds aided an egalitarian group, the Qian, in invading the World's Edge, which was occupied by a group of elitist Unicorns. The Qian did offer to try to share the land with them, but the Unicorns were quick to choose the path of violence. The Qian prevailed, and now make their home in the World's Edge. However, the band of Unicorns retreated to the North, and are surely planning to seek revenge on all the herds. Those like me are trying to keep the ones they love safe, and seek a way to avoid warfare." A gleam of curiousity found his eyes, brightening his previously bleak emotion. "I do wonder what would make you so quick to think this land held evil. Have you come from a place that is also troubled?" He asked, and the long scar across his haunch tingled. The feeling was almost completely lost on his newly unreceptive skin, but Leander knew the old wound's presence well; a constant reminder of a violent past.

It was actually a comfort to hear the mare start to advise. Warmth found it's way back into him, moods fluctuating once again, though this time in a much more favorable way. It seemed like a leader should have many advisors, simply friends who could think of ways to help in different situations. But he had none, and even his relationship with Faelene lay under wraps from those he knew. How could he tell Kri that he cared for a mare from the ex-Edge? Her respect for him would likely be crushed with such a revelation. The stoic Sultana had taken no lover or mate of her own; how was he to know if she was familiar with the prick of cupid's arrow? Some worry fell into his weak smile as he thought of what would come of his starstruck love. There would be no pining over the red maned if she planned to linger at Mauja's side.

"Thank you, Aitheria. I could use someone to talk to, though I fear many of my problems are not ones I should speak of. If you would like someone to talk to as well, I would be glad to lend an ear." He nodded to the chestnut, pleased that she had not decided to run back into the woods. She seemed such a level-headed, kind thing, and he was lucky to have been able to have her company instead of recruiters from the Foothill's or the Edge. She would undoubtedly make an excellent addition to the Throat, if she decided to accept his future offer.

Violet eyes were on him, questioning his explanation of Mauja's group. Oh dear girl, if only you knew. As much as he held hatred for Mauja, and the way his followers acted, he understood Aitheria's question well. She obviously wondered about the Unicorn's side of the story. "I would have taken what chances were available to avoid losing my home in the first place, rather than disregarding calm conversation. Herd lands are limited here, and all must be prepared to defend theirs with their lives if they wish to keep them. I believe in the Qian's value of equality, and so I fought. This is not to say I do not understand the Unicorn's motives for retaliation; in fact, I am not a stranger to all of their members. I do not think any group should have to be without a home. If there was land for me to give, I would give it to them, as long as they swore no violence toward the herds. Unfortunately, most of the ones I've met seem to care not for peace. If you had met them, Aitheria, I trust you would understand my agitation well. You have no need to worry about a disagreement between us, though. For you will make your own assessment in time." The golden spoke with a steady tone, the clear edge of knowledge and truth present in his words. She would understand his feelings towards them well, if only she had experienced them for herself. There was no logic within them, only a blind hatred and longing for revenge. They did not have the mind to think of the Qian's side, though he himself had the capacity to feel for their own struggle. Their horns had sought to slit his throat, and yet he still did not truly want them to struggle in the North. If they would only open their knotted heads and think of more than just vengeance, their lives would be so much easier. Allies were always more valuable then enemies. Why couldn't they see that?

The copper lady continued, speaking of her past. Sooty ears perked with interest as she recalled her home, though it did not sound quite as violent as he might have expected. She talked of finding something better, as if she wasn't sure she'd actually find that in Helovia's troubled borders. "It sounds as though you were right to find yourself a new home, though I fear that life here will get worse before it gets better." He commented on her choice, trying to exchange the concern in his eyes for hope as he went on. "Aitheria, I would be honored to have such a wise lady be a part of my home and family. If you desire a herd, you are welcome to come back to the Dragon's Throat with me." He smiled, leaving the offer hanging on the warming air. There was not telling if she would be interested or not, considering how nervous and quizzical she had been. Quietly, the Sultan hoped, for it was not everyday he found such unique newcomers in the Threshold.

"Where did you learn such wisdom, Aitheria?" The golden mused mostly to himself, though smiling thoughtfully to the girl. She did look maybe a touch older than himself, but her words were seemed much wiser than her years. When we are in a place that is safe from the threat of prying ears or eyes, I would be glad to speak to you about more of my problems. Unfortunately, this wood is too often lurking with the unexpected." He acquiesced to Aitheria's proposal. Cerulean made a glance around the shadows, as though someone else might emerge at any moment and try to ruin their pleasant talk. Luckily, it seemed the Threshold was less inconvenient this morning.

She appeared to get the gist of Mauja's group quickly. She had a good point; why care about those Unicorns if they were going to be so foolish? Unfortunately, Faelene was one of them, and if she was, then there had to be others who followed that were just as worthy of happiness. "It would be easier to think that they deserve to suffer, but I cannot believe that. I have a.. friend, within their group. She is not foolish like many of them are, and I know she must stay with that group because there are others like her, that are not hateful, or filled with blind vengeance." Vaguely, he mentioned Faelene, making no indication of their true relationship. It was for the best. Fate held their fragile tie in it's hands, and it could be crushed within the blink of an eye.

Suddenly, Aitheria was gestured her ivory marked crown towards him, breaking his shifting thoughts. A grin found his maw for her pleasant words. "There is always hope." Confidence laced his soft tones. Of that much he was sure. Making his day, the copper mare which he'd come to quickly like accepted his invitation. "You will be a pleasure to have in the Throat, Aitheria. And I don't think I will tire of your interests; the company does me well." With that, the gold slowly started off towards the South, ready to show Aitheria many new sights on their journey back to the Throat. Maybe he really would be able to speak freely to her, about even the darkest of his problems.


[ooc: You can go ahead and post around in the Throat now! Send me a message whenever you'd like to set up another thread for them! :)]