The Noriker stallion set off in search of his fathers home. The foothills. A thick neck shook hard as he shot off at a canter. Large muscles coiled beneath his skin, rippling with intimidating elegance. The stallion rather mixed in with the scenery, looking upon his colors you would think he rose from the ground itself. His colors were nothing different than green and brown hues. Including his eyes, intriguing features none the less. Even his teeth had gnarly browns on them. Showing his age. The wear and tear of blood mixed with delicious grass.

Sooty flanks began to line with a fine amount of sweat. Cannons pushed on, hardy hooves sturdy on the green grass. Blending almost perfectly. A faithful warrior was returning. Home. Finally coming home from a long journey to the outer world of nothing. The lids of his eyes finally unglued from the iris. Eyelids folding with each blink. The creases almost majestic. A horn that protruded two feet from the point at his cranium was held proudly above him. Battle scars littered his hide. Dark muzzle cringing with each breath as he strode forward all the more. This new claim of hierarchy would do him all the better. Someone to take charge beyond the gods will.

Trinkets within his long mane and tail often found themselves touching, bringing forth a low faint sound of wood on wood. Like a knocking Wood Pecker. Buckskin base and long thick dorsal stripe beautifully placed upon him. A soul beneath that hard outer shell, a soul so hopeful and ready. He wished to fight. Longed to remember the taste of flesh and blood. Or the sound of his horn piercing the flesh of another. Miltiades did not care for your race, sex, or mindset. If you were against him you would fall. If you were with him, you would rise. Reach the top and exceed. You would become golden, just like the strips within his earthly green hair.

Miltiades stops just before the edge of the Foothills. Skidding to a halt, mud flying in all directions. Clinging to his faint fetlock hair and underbelly. A huge snort slinging snot from his maddened nostril. He exhales with a giant amount of pressure. Sides heaving with excitement. Ears hardened to a perfect tip, directly aimed for what ever was before him. Horn raised proudly to the sky. He would not leave ever again. This was his home. They would not pry him from it. Only his lifeless body would be taken from here. His soul would cling. Never ending dedication to his god, until his body reincarnated. He would arise all again.

[ooc- open to anyone, but I would particularly love for him to meet the leads.]

There is so much I want here. Beyond the grass and the earth of my fellow god but I want power. To belong among this new hierarchy they have blindly built. Without knowledge of what it will bring. One could simply dictate a whole herd by having a few soldiers at his side to enforce his heavy rule. To strike fear without relent. Causing havoc and death. Watching disease plague his fellow friends without a care. Power would destroy you or make you. Depends on how you handled it. Going from herd to herd, jumping positions and striving for more, you were bound to be a useless figure. Easily struck down by the opposing force but oh, if you had gone right to the throat to begin with... you shall succeed. Planting your very soul in what you do. Working with kinks and getting rid of the bad.

I would plague this herd with good. Destroy its evil and amount it to the proper grace it should come at. To raise the foothills to their previous glory. Numbers will grow and I will rise. I will wipe out any that stand in my path. Becoming this merciless dictator if you do not stand at the mercy of my feet. Though I'm not so bad. Perhaps I'm becoming so far lost into my past wishes that I am blinded for the future. This land will not be led again to ruin.

With the demanding tone of another my ears snap to my side. Green eyes looking within the trees, at first there is nothing but then she appears. A steal grey short drafted mare, releasing her form from behind a cloak of invisible stature. Aging bones was clearly written across her face, the temples above her eyes caving in. That white mask holding something so evil and sadistic, I seen right through those carnivorous eyes. Something about the way she holds herself sends my nerves shocking through my body. The course of my blood flow reversing, chills entwined down my spine. Trust was far from what I could offer her but still I proceed to smile. Shoving away any arrogance within my facial features. She would not have me if I was such.

My pride was smashed as I stooped low to worship someone to gain acceptance. The warrior within me screeched to kill, wound, and chase her away. Only in protecting the Foothills from the doom to come. From the cloud of grey and lighting that would follow her in her stormy path. Her own vicious nature was compared to mine, I would top her in anger but hers would follow her throughout the day. The mares voice was cruel and twisting.

I dipped my head in formal posture, slowly choking on my own bitterness, striving to keep it under control. Her growl did not go unheard, my face grew cold and relentless. My cranium rose with arrogance and pride. I stepped forth without care now. Brutal visions in my head, circling with dreams of blood as my horn tore apart her flesh and carved her bone. Though I do not proceed in an attack. Rather I smiled like a sly dog. "I do wish to reside in this home of yours." I should be correct to assume it is where she dwells? The defensive tone at which she took to deem me a trespasser was all the facts I needed to understand such. Even her scent was blocked with the rather distinct smell of this home and none of the others. "Perhaps you would acquire me?" there it is again, I'm choking to hold back the bitterness I hold for her. As soon as I am above she will be far below and gone. Either I will do it or someone else but she cannot stay. My evil smile still entwined my lips as I waited for her to talk again.