dominateur [Claim]

They were delicate steps, made almost languidly as if the chill of winter did not effect the being in any way. His gaze was cast over the land, eyes moving slowly in the perceptive and measuring ability that kept his wits about him. Perhaps he was a making a grand mistake, for being highly ill-prepared for such an undertaking. Though, it really could be no more than than keeping your eyes open and your body prepared for the challenge or grit of thieves or would-be thieves. Deigning to investigate the land more fully, his movements were slow as he moved his form onward. In anticipation, or perhaps unrealistically hoping for some magnificent landmark to catch his eyes, his sculpted head was raised over the base of his chest, drawing on his height to press the boundaries of his eyesight. His gate, perhaps a bit slow, moved his solid form through the melting snow. This land, though plain to the outsiders gaze, would be just enough to sustain a herd and perhaps allow one to prosper. He couldn't exactly define the reason he was having such thoughts, for herds were beyond his comprehension.

D'Artagnon, as his mother had dubbed him after a father he would never meet, had never so much as spent a single night in a herd. Being surrounded by others, while it would be comforting to ease the years of loneliness that had grown within him, would be something he would certainly have to get used to. If it could be a called a wiry grin, whatever it was turned up the left corner of his ink stained lips, leaving an eery contentedness to his form. How would he know what to do once the loneliness ebbed away? He was not one for being coddled, so would he be able to allow herd members to keep him happy outside of his vagabond ways? Determination, though ragged on his travel-weary form, was engrained into his very core. His mother had created a strong and independent being, while teaching him to give others a chance to bolster him if he ever needed it.

The sleek lines of his heavy body twisted, as he turned a small circle in the snow and faced the opposite direction. His eyes passed over the land, as he raised his head over his massively muscled nape and splayed his ears to the side. His black tainted nostrils flexed as he inhaled the cold scentless air, learning the land and all that it lacked: an owner. This land would do as well as any, he surmised, as he pulled his chiseled jaw against his chest and closed his eyes. Inhaling once more, he calmed himself with the passing memories of his mother. Could he do this and break the chain of his family? Generations of lone mares raising foals as they traveled, and generations of fathers never known by their creations. Snorting at the thought, he shook the inky locks that were draped smoothly over his large head, and released his scent on the land. He was not one for grand displays or actions, and leaving his scent would be just as defining as sending and echo across empty lands. It would be a wasted breath to alert the ghosts of his claim, as they would neither be trespassing or truly existing.

[ooc: Recycled!]