A heavy snort escaped the flared nostrils of the stallion as feathered hooves picked their way over the terrain. Xhioden had tentatively staked a claim in the fog lands but he knew that the scarcity of quality mares put him at a disadvantage. He had wandered the lands of the lost only to decide that there was nothing there worthy of his efforts. He was not without his own ambitions, perhaps a side effect of his upbringing, but unlike most of his race this Wyvern Stallion knew the value of strategy and knowledge. He could even be loyal to the right leader, if that creature too were in pursuit of power.

His ears twitched listening carefully, usually the ones who needed a Lieutenant were weak, and therefore nothing he could bring himself to respect or learn from. Still it was worth taking a look, so long as he could keep what he brought into the herd when he left he was not bothered. Not that many stallions took a liking to that way of thinking, but really Oden was looking for something very specific in a mate, until he found his queen he was perfectly happy collecting fodder for another brute.

Craning his regal neck he tossed the thick of his mane to the other side, pawing the cracking earth. Vorosco was not a place for the weak. If no one worth learning from appeared, he would continue to further his own ambitions in another way.