Summer was a kind season to Forbidden Dale. Beneath the cloudless and fierce blue sky, the vegetation grew with vigor - the once sparse canopies of the awakening water oaks and various other trees were now full and dense; young saplings crowded the vast open spaces, encroaching a little at a time into the meadows; patches of blackberry bushes, wild plums, and other shrubs littered the hillsides; and lush grasses raged like wildfire, untamed, wherever else the warm rays of the sun touched the bare earth. Life-giving water flowed freely in the springs and streams coming out of the mountains and veined through the valleys before emptying into the long, narrow lake occupying one of the largest valleys within the Dale. There was little else a horse could wish for in a herd land, except maybe companionship.

The territory was remote and isolated from the majority of the other vacant and occupied lands, cut off by the steep mountain range and the harsh terrain surrounding it. Having been abandoned and laid to fallow by the previous herd, the land was looking almost as wild and neglected as they came. The paths and trails formed into the topography by the herds past had begun to disappear in the undergrowth and the fields grew tall, unhindered by the cropping teeth of harem mares and their young. Wildlife was abundant as well, because of this.

In the short time that the dun stallion had called the place his, he'd witnessed many deer, birds, and even a family of shy black bears rummaging about for berries and fish in the creeks. None of them in particular upset him with their presence, except that those tended to lure in other scavengers and carnivores. Wolves, to be specific. The creatures had taken up residence in the depths of the dark forest on the eastern end of the Dale. There were only a small handful that he'd seen, about three he thought, but at nights, there sometimes sounded like there were dozens. The howls made his skin crawl with abhoration, knowing that they were there, lurking about as he was looking to begin bringing mares and likely foals into the Dale.

Rhaego despised the dogs, but rarely got the opportunity run to out the elusive and swift creatures. But at least, thus far they had not caused any disturbances. He was not taking any chances though. Soon enough, it would no longer be just him. In the recent days, the stallion had frequently been patrolling the borders and the forest, leaving his scent and marks wherever he could... not just to the rare horse that might pass through, but mostly for the small pack of wolves. They were not welcome in the Dale and he would strive to make sure the canines understood that whenever he saw them.

Today was another day of those days - vigilantly patrolling the territory, traipsing through the brush and hills, briars and brush. He purposefully paused at various intervals to 'scratch' on the odd tree or such, rubbing his own musky scent onto the branches. He walked with purpose near the borders, casting his dark gaze sharply around whenever he thought that he heard something with a murderous glare. Yet he doubted that he'd encounter the dogs this time of the afternoon, as warm as it was... but oh, if only he could! They'd be sure to regret it.