The early morning sun yet to fully arise Alo is awakened by a commotion as his horse begins to panic from a danger yet unknown that lurks in the wood. He approaches his horse and perches himself against the tree the unruly beast is bound to.

His voice still ragged from the encounter with the caltuss he whispers an ancient calming spell in the Druid tongue into the beast's ear, “Saal fà daven.”

The crimson light of the sun begins to peek its way through the trees as the horse now settled leans his head against Alo’s, the red reflecting in the black of the beast's eye reminds him of another time so far past it feels as if it was a different lifetime.

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As the burning light of day continues to slowly kill the night the wood becomes alive with the sound of birds, a sound not heard for months since the cutlass had made his residence here. With every second standing the sun's heat grows on his face and the moisture of the night before begins to slowly rise from the ground and the coat of his horse almost looks as if its very soul is being lifted from its body. With a long wipe of his hand along the beast's mane Alo allows himself to fully connect his soul with that of his steed.

As Alo’s tattoos begin to glow the beast lays its head upon his shoulder allowing him to truly feel the strength of this magnificent creature. A true specimen of untold potential once the binding is completed. It is said that the more the mount trusts its rider the stronger a druid's tattoos shall glow as bright as the sun itself and if that is truly the case Alo knows he is far from done but for now he knows not what to do except grant the beast a name “Malk”.