The Dale was a little higher in elevation in comparison to some of the other territories on the far side of the mountain range. It tended to stay just a bit cooler overall due to this - the summers were not quite so blistering, especially if one was to venture into the depths of the dark forest, even during midday it could be quite cool. The autumns and winters were no exception to this trend. When the icy fingers of winter descended upon the mist shrouded lands of the vast realm, it was inevitable that they reached for the Forbidden Dale first. In the two years that Rhaego had called the secluded land his own, he'd witnessed the changing of the leaves and the first killing frosts always seemed to hit at least a week or two sooner than the rest of the lands.

It did not truly bother him - if anything, it only meant that he got relief from the glaring summer sun sooner than the rest. He was a burly stallion, stout and muscular as they came thanks to his Swedish Draft bloodline so the cold seemed trivial and unimportant. He was well-equipped for it - both in his broad body and the thick winter coat that he sported during the cool months. Some of the mares however, he noticed with startling indifference, disliked the Dale's climate. They were usually the finer-boned doves that felt this way, the ones without enough flesh on their bones to keep them warm... but oh, he couldn't help but admire how sleek their pelts stayed even during the winter, so soft and demanding to be touched and carressed. Like Sun Ray's.

This brings a small smirk to the stallion's pale muzzle as he walks beneath the star-studded sky across the knolls and ridges. The tall meadow grasses were covered in dew already and the feathering around Rhaego's lower legs was soaked in it. He had not heard Rakea's call since he had been far from her and there had been many rolling hills between them to block the sound of her voice, but he was making a last check of his home... if there ever was to be a breach of his borders, an attempt to sneak one of his harem, then it would be under the cover of darkness like now, and Rhaego was vigilant.

Tredding swiftly and with purpose, the stallion is startled and more than a little surprised to suddenly walk up on a dark colored figure laying down in the tall grasses, perfectly camouflaged in the shadows of the night. The quarter moon cast enough light however for the stallion to see just enough. He snorts in surprise and in distaste, taking a step back with his heavy neck flexed slightly. He rocks back onto his hindquarters slightly, raising both front hooves up and bringing them back down sharply with a heavy thud. "Trespasser." Rhaego's deep and gravelly voice rumbled accusingly in a tone that was far from pleased. He moved towards the equine threateningly, ears flat and teeth bared. As far as Rhaego was concerned, any horse that trespassed during the night hours surely did not come with harmless intentions.