Sitka is looking for a mate and herd(Forcers Allowed Pg/Pg 13)

Legend foretold of a creature born of mischief.
Created through trickery and raised by one not of its kind. For there were none of its kind in existence, he was his own kind. An equine, malformed yet beautiful with eight magnificent limbs and towering bulk. Raised by the Silver Tongue himself, the one he called mother. It is a strange story, one labeled myth and fantasy. But the Aesir know better. For it was their Prince who raised this creature and their King whom claimed him as his steed. Sleipnir lives, and he has come to Midgard.

The massive brute bellowed loudly as his fore hooves gave way beneath him.
The fall had been rapid, unexpected, frightening. He fell over himself and tumbled in a rumbling somersault. The eight-legged creature halted on his back, and heaved his weight to the side. Gathering his complicated anatomy below him, he stood and pricked his ears. The stallion's sleek coat shimmered in the pale moonlight with each heaving breath he took. The stallion's ribs were anything but noticeable- hidden beneath his rippling muscles. Sleipnir let out another shrill whinny, calling out for his mother, or Odin, or anyone for that matter. Silence was all that replied. How did this happen? Why had he fallen through the Bifrost and onto this strange new world? Determined to solve this mystery and return to his family, the stallion set out on a path known only by the Norns.

Present Day

Sleipnir's eight, bowl-sized hooves left obvious indentations on the soil as he wove his way through the foliage.
This new realm was a strange, prosperous one. He had gone several nights without encountering another being capable of conversing with him. It made him feel lonely, lost even. He was lost to the ones whom guided him his entire life. The thought slashed like a dagger into the beast's heart, but it didn't show on his facade. The brute walked evenly, his limbs moving with a strange, illusion-like motion that gave the impression he was moving in slow-motion. The King's steed stood regally, his height just as surprising as his bulk. A soft snort issued from his maw and he flicked his tail out to his left. Something caught his nostrils and the stallion hesitated. It was one of his father's kind, although this one was not as strong. Mortal, in fact. A breathy sigh followed the stallion's curiosity as he stepped forward once. His second row of for-limbs and his four back legs swiftly following. The emerald pools that were his eyes reflected the image of a mare much smaller than he. She probably stood normal for her breed, though. He canted his head as if trying to see her better. The movement sent his thick forlock cascading across the beast's strong features.
"My lady?" His deep, rumbling voice stilled the air and all the creatures who breathed it. It was majestic, unnatural, yet mysteriously handsome. He stepped forward once more, but halted as he drowned in the beauty of the mortal creature. She was so perfectly simple. He turned his emerald eyes to hers.
"Might I know your name?"

The massive stallion shifted his weight, the motion rolling through each of his hooves as he repositioned himself.
The stallion straightened and offered her a warm smile. "I am Sleipnir, it is a pleasure to meet you," He paused. The stallion lifted his two left front hooves and bowed deeply. The eyes he had inherited from his mother turned up past the inclined position of his head. "Lady Sitka" he finished, and flicked his luxurious black tail. The brute's mane and tail were as black as night and shined like glass. The color was so reach it seemed almost blue. His coat was a similar shade, but was soiled with spots of lighter greys and browns. A patch of Celtic knot work decorated the stallion's flank, indicating his origin and name. Finally, Sleipnir straightened himself and a cloud of breath fogged around his maw as he exhaled. "What realm is this, if I may ask?"

The name of this place rolled over in the stallion's mind and he decided he did not recognize it.
He let out a small sigh and tilted his gaze up to the skies. Why did this happen? Why wouldn't they take him back?
Sleipnir frowned, then turned back to the mare. She watched him with curiosity, which satisfied him. Many found him intriguing, but few looked at him like she did. The frown tilted up into a grin that danced in his eyes. "I do not recognize the name, but I thank you nonetheless." The stallion's charming facade held a hint of arrogance that was merely playful. It had been a long while since he'd interacted with one of this kind.

Sleipnir followed her gaze and lifted one of his muscular legs.
One of eight, while she possessed only four. Her question was inevitable, but he was surprised it came so quickly. She was so calm and collected. Sleipnir was cautious because of this. His eyes turned back to her and he set down his hoof. "I am from Asgard, one of the Nine Realms." He hesitated and glanced about. This place appeared very similar to Midgard, or as the natives called it, Earth. He nodded slightly and looked back to the mare. "I don't suppose you've heard of it" Sleipnir added. The Midgardians were quite secluded here and were practically unaware of the eight other realms.

He stood calmly before her as she stepped closer, her eyes trained on him as his were trained on her.
She was so delicate and fragile, it seemed like a single gust of wind could break her. She stopped, about a meter away, and he felt himself longing to be closer to her. He lived for interaction, those days of lonely walking had drove him nearly to insanity. Sleipnir and his mother- Loki, had assumed he gathered that habit from Thor, his uncle. After all, Loki wasn't one to seek out company. The God despised it, in fact. The stallion drew in a breath, her calming scent soothing his lungs. Sitka's question drew a greater smile on his lips. "With my mother, and other family. But no, I do have a herd of my own."

Sleipnir stifled the flutter he felt as she told him she was alone as well.
This mare was like a blessing to him. After all, he never expected to find such an innocent creature in this land. Seemingly innocent, he corrected himself. If spending years with the God of Lies and his family taught Sleipnir anything, it was that you should never truly trust someone. It was a rule he obeyed faithfully. "Wonderful!" The stallion bellowed, then caught himself and quieted his tone. His booming voice was fine when surrounded by the Aesir's steeds, but he didn't want to frighten this mare. "Well, not the alone part, but the fact that we have found each other in such a vast expanse of nothingness!" He grinned at his words and pranced in place for just a fraction of a second. Sleipnir fell still shortly after and extended his maw towards her as if to tap her side, then tucked it back towards himself. "I cannot tell you how relieved I am to have found you,"