At 18 hands, Dizalgah towered over the foreign members of this unofficial gathering. The mares were stunning. The stallion was of no seeming threat. Things were going... Alright. For once in almost a year, he had found potential friends, actual horses instead of forest creatures bounding in front of him out of nowhere. He was so happy with the more than interesting group that he felt like he would shed a tear of joy. But he couldn't. He wouldn't allow himself to appear inferior. Not in front of newcomers.
“Son. The only thing that matters when you're a stallion, is your outward appearance and if you seem bold, strong, courageous. You mustn't focus on anything but these qualities when you come across people whom don't know you. Especially if you're going to take my position as alpha one day.” Dizalgah let out an angry puff of breath at the unexpected and unwelcomed memory. He would be everything his father hadn't given him a chance to be. He would return to his herd and TAKE his father's position. Dizalgah, the monstrous dark silvery grey Shire stallion, would prove his worth... Some day. For now, though, he would enjoy the company of fellow land goers and their companions.
Riaha peered her piercing eyes into him and entered his mind with stealthy grace, “don't fear, my dear fellow,” she stated with her regal accent that promoted elegance and false daintiness. Her scarlet face and long ebony nuzzle almost pointed at the stallion with accusation that no one else would dare fathom. She knew that with her bright muddied yellow eyes and slender, tamed, and powerful body, she was beautiful in an eery sort of way. What happened to the adorable pup appearance that she had once possessed and played the act of well? It dissolved, slowly, unexpectedly, into this deceivingly deadly machine. A machine that loved her over sized companion much too much. She cared for his well being, worried about his corrupted state and corroded vision of the world. Riaha would die for his benefit, lest the time come. Although for now, she simply gazed upon his magnanimous feature in the breathtaking backdrop.
His grey coat was what would be visualized as dull if you were to just explain his coloring, when you saw him though, he was a dark, mesmerizing grey with black doppling his hind quarters and withers. His black mane and tail flew in the wind and around his sky blue eyes. He stood out in the winter's snow like a dirty sore thumb. From an eagle's view, hundreds of feet in the air, he'd look like a traveling blotch that emerged from unclean soil. A blotch blackened by age and mold. Although.. If you looked at him long enough, you didn't see a blotch any longer, you saw a strangely mystifying color. A color that too well suited his personality and life.
“I do not fear these equine. I fear the possibilities that travel with them,” Dizalgah thought to his furry friend who then turned her German Shepard sized head toward the company. “It seems we've been congregated for a reason. One that isn't known to us. Shall we use this to our advantage?” He lifted his head, shifted his blacked legs and stood in a truly authorative manner. “As I said once before, I am Dizalgah of the West and this is my companion, Riaha, the wild maned wolf.”