The storms here could be bad, as was typical for the warmer climates. This one, not much different than the last, but nonetheless its fierce gusts rocketed across the island of Atlantis with little to no mercy. Unlike the dunes and deserts of Salem however, Rougaru found that the island of Atlantis held many hidden pleasures, including a number of weather worn caverns made solid and sturdy by the constant battering of ocean tides. When first he had claimed this island as his home, he had chosen to weather through the storms in the trees, sheltered beneath the thick branches of overhanging palms whose roots grow deep into the soil and only the strongest of galestroms would ever find a way to uproot and down them. It had been nice there, dry for the most part, but the silver bay stallion found that it left him lacking. Where others might fear the might sea storms, he himself rather enjoyed them. Not enjoyed being out in them mind you, but he did find pleasure in watching the white topped waves as they crashed and tumbled over and over against the shore, finding their own pleasure in being able to rise above any other high tides grasp. The rain too was a source of joy to the dragga. In his years of life, he had learned that rain makes different sounds when it hits the water's surface, when it hits the porous rocks, and when it hits the wide leaves of the palm trees. While he was used to the rain's pitter patter through the tree leaves, there was something altogether glorious in the tink tink sound it made as it hit the blackened rocks and the thud of its volume against the sand.

Today he gives the search for herd mares a break and instead, the stormy morning finds him standing with water logged forelock at the entrance to a large mouthed cave just beyond the surf's reach. He was sure that at one time, perhaps in a worse storm, the surf might find its way into the depths of the sand covered floor. For now however, it served as a convenient perch for him to stare out across the ocean in search of approaching intruders or breaching porpoises. Rougaru had no expectation of finding either of these things today and so his ever watchful eyes were indeed growing heavy and half lidded as sleep threatened to overtake him in his relaxed posture... that is, until the sounds of an equine voice rise above the surging surf. Immediately twin harks perk amid the mass of water logged cream and caramel tresses. Depthless emerald green eyes scan the rolling waves and crashing tides until sights fall upon the struggling form of a mare, fighting against the raging currents.

For a moment he remains still, merely watching as a myriad of thoughts cross through his mind. He watches as wearily the copper colored mare drags herself from the surf and stands upon his beach with gasping breath, her sides heaving from the struggle of the fight against the maelstrom's torrent. Her slender body turns back to the surf now, her gaze desperate and searching, as though there is something else out there... or someone. A foal perhaps? The first flicker's of concern flash through his mind as one carefully placed step after the other Rougaru navigates his large frame towards her own smaller one. Saucer-like hooves leave deep impressions in the malleable soil as the stallion dips his proud head into a neutral position. Though the thought had crossed his mind to be the fierce dominant stallion, and come upon her balls to the wall blazing... but well honestly, he doubted he needed to. She was tired and weary, there was little to no chance she would struggle against him and well, it was too nasty out to risk her injuring herself or vise versa if she decided to charge back out into the surf in an attempt to flee. As tired as she looked she very well could drown.

He stops now, a few feet from her, his fierce gaze alternating from the water logged mare to the raging surf that lapped hungrily at their hooves and the white crested waves that fought the zephyrs beyond the breakers. "Have you lost something?" he asks, his gravelled baritones raised above the raging winds that whipped the long locks of his mane away from the muscular curve of his neck. Twin sonars flicker back and forth atop his skullcap as jade eyes scan the whitecaps in search of another, muscles taunt beneath his skin, ready to spring him into action should the need for aide arise.