Orders. Nothing pleased Areo Hotah than to be told what to do by who was above him. The very day he was born he was shuffled from his mother’s side and gazed upon, surveying eyes studying the already thick build of his little body and wispy coat covered body. The moment it was decided he had the strength which was necessary to do what needed done; Area Hotah was disallowed to know elsewise. That which was familiar was ultimately relaxing and in servitude, he felt the pieces which had scattered upon his banishment were put back together in a snap.
The great stallion nodded his head swiftly and seemed to come to life more than he had before with muscles rolling beneath his coat as he moved as if to advance forward, further into Jasiri’s land where he might survey and know every inch of its expanse.
Only one glance was spared toward his queen – a look which mingled with gratitude, though Areo Hotah would never overstep his boundaries and say a thing to his leader. A glance away and he moved off, long, thick limbs pulling him from their initial meeting. He fell first into a trot, picked up quickly into a canter and galloped off, the world thundering beneath the harsh impact of his wide hooves.
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