Bronze-tipped lobes hear the call all the way from the island. The clown was challenging him and, Jesper would answer. He had already squared things away with his King and, he had bid farewell to his sister. He felt his affairs were in order, no matter what should come of this venture.

Muscled haunches push onyx steed into an easy jog to traverse the underbrush of Ischia until unshod keratin finds the warm, white sands of her shore. Jet-black stallion aligns himself with the mainland and, jumps right into the frigid ocean. Limbs pull and thrust chassis through the winter waters until hooves find the floor. Once on solid ground, quad pillars splay to balance form as he shakes to rid excess moisture from his still relatively short fur. Darn the tropical climate he calls home. It certainly does not experience the same weather the mainland experiences. Alas, the energy he recently expended to swim across combated the winter chill. Jesper picks up his light trot once more and, continues across the banks of the River, the plains of Loess and, southwest until he steps onto the bald plain of the battlefield. 

Light blue gaze easily locates the wild-haired, raven form that belongs to Modicum Mortem. The weak winter sun glistens just enough to light the pony's defective nose. Stepping into an animated march, Jesper stride confidently towards the Sylvan dictator. Crest arches and tufted lobes flatten to poll as he pulls to a halt in front of the pony. He offers no bow of respect and, no smile or, sign of softening. Loud snort escapes salmon-lined nostrils before curt tone - perhaps the first time ever - coats the words that escape vocal chords.

With that, desert-bred steed turns northward to the perpetually autumnal forest as, he very well knew the way.

If this is not acceptable to the Officials, here are Jesper's stats:

Jesper

15.3hh

Anglo-Arabian Hybrid

No Traits

If battling is required, traditional format of 2 attack posts each, 2 dodge posts each, okay?

@[Modicum Mortem] @[Officials]