The coldest of summer nights it was, and a lone shadow billowed with the wind. One could presume to describe the silhouette as a curiosity for it was rooted motionlessly to the earth, and only devilishly viperous blue eyes pierced the twilit veil - calculating, one could, again, presume to describe. It studied the barren wealth of a realm blasphemously abandoned, albeit still inscribed with the musk of memories which were slow and anguished to fade. For that very reason a hawkish and leering set of eyes probed and pried into the darkness, waiting for the wind that ripped at its skin to reveal its existence and lurking. However, seconds ticked into precious minutes, and only silence nonchalantly greeted the interloper - and greeted him just as the clouds chose to shift, just as the stallion chose to move. His strides raked the ground as he flew, the rhythm steady, fluid, and thunderous. The sound echoed in the cryptic breeze, but continued to go glaringly unanswered, which solidified the scavengers certainty that, indeed, he was alone. Alone, and undisturbed. For an hour he trespassed on sanctified ground, learning the habits and internal workings of a herd that left nothing behind except the resonance of what once was, but would no longer be. It was an interesting study, but one that left his mouth dry and eyes half-lidded with a growing boredom. It was a story the beast had read before and, as a scavenger, would have tossed aside and moved along. But, for the first time, the stallion felt compelled. He couldn't quite put his thumb on it, and he didn't care to try. There was a challenge here that put the taste of iron on his thick tongue, a challenge he had a powerful thirst to conquer. "Mine." He uttered monotonously, the profound reaches of his baritone a croon that eroded into the very stone, the deep roots of the trees, the world.

Wuuthrex was home.

Claim accepted!