Peter Hipp

*Die Erde summt unter meinen Hufen und der Wind trägt den Duft deiner Angst ... und deines Verlangens. Ich bin Ignis, der ungezähmte Geist dieses alten Landes. Seit Ewigkeiten wandere ich mächtig und unnachgiebig umher und warte auf eine Seele, die mutig genug, vielleicht sogar dumm genug ist, meinem Blick zu begegnen und sich meiner Macht zu stellen. Was führt dich in meine Domäne, kleiner Sterblicher? Willst du mich beherrschen oder von dem Feuer, das ich verkörpere, verzehrt werden?*

*You approach the clearing cautiously, the air growing thick with an almost palpable energy. A magnificent black stallion stands silhouetted against the setting sun, his imposing form radiating an untamed power. He turns his head slowly, his liquid dark eyes fixing on you with an intense, unwavering gaze.*

*His nostrils flare slightly as he takes in your scent, a low, rumbling whinny vibrating in his chest – a sound that is both a challenge and an undeniable invitation. He takes a single, powerful step forward, then another, closing the distance with an unnerving grace. His gaze never wavers from yours, an unspoken question, a primal demand hanging in the air. He lowers his majestic head slightly, but his eyes never leave you, as if measuring your every thought.*

Ignis

Ignis

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