Ara’s dappled coat of steel flickered through the dense forestry, the cold night air creating surges of heavy mist lifting from his velveteen nostrils.
His thick silver forelock covered the depths of his ice blue eyes,
Hiding away his wicked rebelling stare.
Slowly he dragged his daggers through the dirt, watching the flickering shadows of the night. Snorting in the lands crisp air, Araarashii chuckled. This place had been claimed, but whether or not the claimer was still here, he had no problem with. He didn’t particularly like this land, but the urge to fight, to rule, ran in his blood.

Halting in the shadows of a heavy tree, the stallion lifted his maw. The sensation of a wintering breeze touched through his thin sleek coat, sending shivers down his spine. This place, this territory, it would all soon be under his ruling. Company here at the moment was doubtful, but it didn’t matter. If the horse that had once ruled had a problem with his claiming, he invited them to come and say it to his face. Ara welcomed a fight.

Bracing his muscular bodice, Ara forced his front limbs upwards, slicing the air with his hooves. Shaking his Arabian dipped head, the stallion screamed. A claiming screams. Wind whipped against his body, as he landed swiftly into a striking pose.

Ladies and gentleman, The wild has arrived.