[Using VoTG Pass from the Birthday Giveaway]

Never before had the warrior lived in a place where the veil between mortals and God's hung so low. He had heard in hushed tones, that the God's actually visited the creatures of Helovia; to impart gifts and wisdom, as well as punishments. It was shocking, and nearly incomprehensible to Gaucho's simple mind. What use could the God's possibly have, for creatures so infinitely small and dumb? Those were questions for a far greater mind, and Gaucho did not let himself linger.

One might find it odd to know that Gaucho was such a God-fearing creature, but really, it shouldn't surprise you. Religion often comes more easily to simple, unquestioning minds. Besides, if Gaucho could verbalize it, he would tell you that in any case, it was best to hedge your bets, and remain in the God's good graces, even if we are wrong about what it all means, in a cosmic sense. But of course, that's far too complicated for the warrior. All he knew, was that he ought to offer his allegiance and worship to the God of the lands he now called home.

His nose was still wounded from where the large draft, Arrrr-chee-balt had tried to rip the bone piercing his nose out entirely. While the blood had clotted and no longer flowed into his mouth, the bone hung limply, having been torn almost completely out. He would see to that after his duties here were complete - surely his pain meant nothing to a God, and proper worship and respect must necessarily come before his own physical ailments. As the bay entered the Veins, his wings folded by his sides, he cast a steely-grey gaze over the ruined shrines. Frowning, he became confused, wondering why they were in such a poor state. Had the inhabitants of Helovia grown so complacent with their frequent visits, that they shirked their responsibilities? Nearing the shrine covered with soot and ash, assuming it to be that of the Sun God, Gaucho spread his large feathered wings, and began to beat them swiftly, tilting them forward. The small gusts of wind he created did little to move the charred remains off of the shrine, but it did reveal some of the stone underneath. Grunting, Gaucho made a mental note to bring something to clean the shrine off with, upon his next visit.

Bending a knee, Gaucho knelt before the shrine, his body aching from his bought of sparring. He lowered himself until his antlers touched the stone, the feathers of his dream-catcher gently brushing the surface. Knowing no formal prayers, Gaucho simply conjured up images of his exploits in the Throat thus far: the numerous spars he had won and his constant conditioning to keep himself in the best physical shape he could, to best protect the herd; the new members he had brought home; his loyalty to Kri and My-dus, and of course the General's funeral. His lips moved soundlessly, as he prayed in his own simple way.

[Seeking an upgrade to his magic (amending the wish-list, as Gaucho wants magic pertaining to the God of the Throat :3
Fire :: When his blood is spilled in battle, the spirits called upon can be covered in flame, inflicting physical burns as well as mental chills/fear.]