Wolves. They had been a pain since the start. The Dale had been such a wild and overgrown place when he claimed it, that the creatures had found a perfect haven for themselves within the depths of the darkest woods there. They'd frequented the meadows and open areas both at night and during the day when he first discovered them. For a while, the stallion thought he'd had them under control, because for a while, they seemed to vanish - though he was not convinced they were gone for good. The canines had seemed to take as much of a liking to the wild land as Rhaego himself had.... and thus far, no winner or loser had been declared in the unspoken competition between the stallion and the pack.

He'd hoped with the addition of Bastille to the herd's ranks that the mangy dogs would find it less tempting to lurk so near to the herd - but that seemed to be an empty hope, especially when they were truly hungry, like today.

Rhaego had been onto the wolves' movement about the territory that morning; he'd caught their stench on the early, dew-laden breezes but the wolves were smart and always seemed to be a step ahead of him in their evasive trek through the woodlands. It irked him beyond measure that the wolves still had the gall to test him, but he had yet to do more than chase them beyond the territory's borders, striking and biting at their tails the whole way. But oh how he itched to trample them all beneath the weight of his powerful hooves. The vicious thought drove him that day as he hunted the hunters, bound and determined to make his point to the mutts.

He'd trekked through the forest with his nose to the ground and to the air like a giant, hooved bloodhound. The wolves trailed weaved relentlessly throughout the brush, and the fact that there were multiple ones made them even more difficult to track - but Rhaego was not going to give up. He pressed on and whether it was his superb tracking skills or pure chance, the stallion heard the snarling growl of one of the wolves a distance ahead and then a noise - like the beating wings of a large bird and was that a cry? Rhaego grunted, pausing for the most fleeting of seconds before lunging towards the sounds. He was a bit farther away than he'd thought but it was not long at all before he burst out of the same bushes that the first wolf had.

In that moment, Rhaego could not have been more overjoyed at the sight before him. For a fleeting instant, he saw everything in incredible detail - the two wolves laying carelessly in the open area, their shocked and horrified expressions as they scrambled to their feet in a flurry of defensive snarls, and then the random, out of place golden flower growing out in the open away from much other growth. Rhaego hardly noticed the practically shimmering flower as he wasted no time in diving right for the nearest wolf, letting loose a bellow of pure hatred at the creature. The heavy stallion stomped furiously and pawed at the wolf who snarled angrily and miraculously stayed just out of reach, the adrenaline rush keeping him safe for the moment. Though in his haste to trample the first wolf, the second had taken advantage of Rhaego's distraction and came at him from behind, snapping at his back legs. The mealy dun whirled with a screaming bellow, bucking and whirling with surprising swiftness to meet the onslaught of the wolf. He stomped and snapped, coming only inches away from the wolf and dangerously close to pummeling the odd little flower into the ground.