Where my gods at?

This heat in this place was easily welcomed, as it so happened his fur was thin enough for such things. His head dropped to the stream as he took a small stop. His tongue darted out collecting the water inside his mouth. He didn't need it but it was a good opportunity to get his fill of water now. His head lifted as he finished, droplets raining from his lower jaw. This place reeked of other souls. He had to say he hated the thought, as they could be nothing more than mortal mongrels, though there was a small chance this place harbored others like him. Giants among the normal crowd. His own species was normal something to sneeze at with a mere 29 inches, but here he stood at a good 36 inches of sleek muscle. He lowered to his haunches. He was pretty well at their front door but he saw no reason to bring attention to himself. He sat tall and proud, though he still held a dangerous air about him.

His golden and chocolate pelt was preened to perfection and his horns sat proudly upon his head. His ear twitched and swiveled as he heard the sounds of vultures above. Their stench was almost enough to cause a wrinkle of his lips, but he kept his stoic facial expressions in check. He liked to be something that mortals had to guess at, and he was bound to encounter whatever soul was taking up residence here, as this seemed to be the only source of water right now. He figured why not just sit and wait for them to come to him, after all even the fallen ones had to drink sometime. If he didn't like what he saw then there was no reason he couldn't just move on, and if they heckled him a good stab with his horns might do them some good.