It flows through veins and keeps even the most minuscule of creatures alive. It binds when spilt and it binds when given, it creates and it destroys. Blood is the reason for everything. It gives life. Yet it is so easy to spill. It is so easy to ruin everything and oh what power does one need to have to decide when to take someones lifeblood away? Not much because one simply needs to be cunning or stronger than the other to take their life away and that was the way of the world. Unfair yet necessary, learn the rules and you will become understanding of Tempus' ways. Blood was life.  

Blood can also call. One's blood ran deep in a certain place or another and that was called home, where the blood lines ran. Whether it be intentional or not blood calls blood and it always flows back home. It was Alaric's time to come home. On the scent of burning wood and charred flesh he came, buzzards circling overhead attracted to his deathly scent and he was silent. The sound of the claws and teeth rattling against his neck was the only thing heard, for in the desert nothing survived by making sound.   

The heat bore down on his back like a hunter to its prey and it was hungry. Sweat rolled in drops down the mans dark body and he breathed heavily through flared nostrils. The sand was his home, Novus was his, the heat did not bother him. As worn cracked hooves expertly made their way across the golden dunes a deep and unsettling cackle from deep within Alaric's chest vibrated across the sky, unsettling even the buzzards above. Because as he climbed another dune the sand turned to red stone, red like blood, cracked and old. Until the world fell away into nothingness.

Alaric knew this place because the Elatus Canyon was where he jumped. Tested to fly for he would die one way or another if he did not, and on thin young limbs he had plunged down the canyon and made it to the other side. Quickening his pace the dark stallion came to stand at the very edge of the canyon, his hooves knocking unfortunate little pebbles down to the abyss. Alaric looked over the dunes with violent eyes and chuckled as a gentle winters breeze tickled the dreads resting on his neck. It was time to come home. Alaric had left in blood and now he would return just the same.

"I am Alaric of Novus, of the Davke" he rumbled "where are my people? Where are the Davke?" Alaric never forgot about his herd, the ruthless horses of the sand who did not hail to the Day Court because they, they were not easily owned. When he left they were powerful and strong, little did he know the Davke had all but been wiped out by the Day courts former leader. A chilling grin graced his lips as another chuckled vibrated in his chest; "im home."