Mold me into a demon; Any

[Aziz]

His time in Loess had been quite uneventful so far, mainly consisting of sleeping inside the hut he created, the scent of pine and flora creating a comfortable and relaxing atmosphere that he was glad to live in. Unlike the prison he had built in Loess, the hut he lived in was quite humble, a small hut melded from stone and earth for him and his blind son to live inside, the flow of magma below them creating the perfect place to sleep, even if slightly ambitious.

Now the stallion wanders quietly upstream, his legs placidly moving against the cool stream of water, the common lands were perfect for getting away from all the distractions in Beqanna, a place for him to relax and enjoy himself. The bay male had left his blind son inside the heated earthen hut, he had been cruel to the child at first, though he quickly learned that it was not his fault that he was blind and that he needed to be taken care of, he knew that the foal would take care of himself while alone, almost surprised that he was so capable even without sight.

The stallion halts as the river bends, the water deeper and the current stronger. The stallion closes his eyes, he can imagine creating a mountain right in front of him, huge structures only kings could dream of, though the faeries would most likely object to such creations in their lands.
The need to create something new is strong, he had been quietly regenerating his health and energy for some time now, and now he was ready to test some of his limits.

The stallion's legs suddenly sink into the soft ground under the water, his eyes closing as the earth begins to rumble gently, the water around him rippling violently.
Suddenly the stallion rises into the air, carried by a small plate of wet soil that is reinforced with stone. After levitating for a few minutes the stallion slowly descends back down to the earth, a smile growing on the sides of his muzzles as he lands, the earth he stands on almost melting back into the existing earth. 

The stallion continues walking along the river, creating more earth under him every time the river got too deep for him to walk in, almost like the bridge he wanted to create in the icicle isle or like the wind borders he had made there.
Aziz halts once he reaches a small clearing, lowering his head to drink the cool water, enjoying the soft current that sweeps past his chest.

Aziz

—lost and forgotten—