Redsand Canyon to ever shelter your will

The canyon was akin to a naturally occurring fortress of red stone and winding, sloping paths. Much of it was so spacious that the biome itself could probably house a myriad of entities - families of horses, hordes of deer, multiple packs of wolves, partitioning off sections as they desired. Yet it was free of all that. The herd that found solace here was not led by this golden creature — yet. Hakai was a bold one; he had spent many days working his way in to the herd, charming the women, sparring with the weaker men, and he finally thought of himself as one of their guard — but he was impatient, eager to train his body and best their fastest of runners or fiercest of warriors.

So it came to be that the stallion was alone now. He knew he was not truly alone, so far as he could return whenever he wished to the throngs of the herd; but he often spent his time singled out, eager to map the canyon paths and find the most difficult of routes to run. It would impress them all, he thought. He would be the best, and they would bow to him. But it was rare to be sought after by dangerous creatures too — the other stallions were not the only ones interested in him, which he came to realize as the scent of wolf hit his flaring nostrils.

He clattered to a stop, grunting, huffing, wheeling about with a lurch of his shoulders; he pivoted, rising up on his hind limbs, kicking triumphantly to keep his balance, and then crashing to the earth again; the sounds he made were bestial and echoed across canyon walls, but they were not the sounds of fear. He turned in to the wind and, with a burst of power, launched in to a run that brought his broad golden body within viewing distance of the two sleek shadows. If he saw them he made no motion to imply as such, and thundered along the path until he was but a gleam in their periphery.