Lifting large hooves, a creature of browns and white shifted through the bog of the Lagoon. Muscles rippled under their flesh, speaking of the bulk without making them speak on it. Ears that were dark rimmed slowly swivel, taking in all of the sounds that this place held. Not too long ago he had been told that this place could make him a legend, but he did not see the truth behind those words just yet. Instead, the crimson based bay only found boredom and strife. This place was laced with irritating stallions and useless mares. He found himself bored out of his mind seventy five percent of the time. It was driving him mad, but still he endured.


Tilting his head to the side and pushing himself free of the hanging vines that dangled from trees, Wechuge puffed out a breath that billowed with steam. Watching his own breath billow upwards, Wechuge held in a grunt. His boredom was leading to childish ways of entertaining himself. He was still a young stallion for sure, but one would look at him and possibly guess a crotchety old bastard. He was not personable and he did not like conversation. He wanted something to watch, to take notes on, and then spin his own way and use later. Yet, the longer he was here, the less likely he figured that would actually happen.


Shifting his weight upon his large hooves, the eighteen hand stallion looked towards his right. One ear twisted, listening to the distance, but a snarl like curve took over his lips. Someone was coming and as he listened, the brute got even more irritated. “Get lost.” He snapped, agitation clear in his tone. He would be a silent wraith for now, but if he were to be a “legend” like the one creature had said, he would have to start somewhere.