Rougaru watches her, curiosity the best of him. He had heard words that the Peak mares were hard creatures. Macabre had been a prime example of just how hard those creatures could be. To him it appeared as if they tried all to hard to accomodate those parts that they did not own. Him? well he was who he was. While the wolf offered hissed words here and there, its emotions giving rise to his own time and time again, for the moment, even the beast remained silent and watchful, as though it wished to see how this situation played out for future uses.

She follows his lead and seems to visibly relax, what tension and caution seeming to ebb and dissipate from the muscles beneath her bay frame. A single dial flexes as she somewhat reluctantly meets his own outstretched muzzle in the age old exchange of breath. Depthless emerald green eyes glitter as confusion washes over her facade and for the briefest of moments, she appears to be at a loss for words. She starts a sentence, but her pause leads him to believe that there was something else lingering there... something other than the words that she let slide free. Deep inside the wolf growled, its silver grey fur bristling with anticipation. This was going to be fun. A ghostly smile tugs the corners of his whiskered lips upwards in the beginnings of a smile as the great stallion bobs his head. Lazily he yawns and arches his neck, stretching a hind hoof forward to scratch at an invisible itch behind his ear in much the same fashion as that of a wolf. A single green eye remains fixed on the pretty little peak girl. "You smell like her." he replies, a suave grin flashing at her as once more he straightens himself up and gives his glossy coffee colored coat a shake, sending bits of dust and sand flying free of his skin. Once more he studies her, noting some of the similar characteristic that she shared with the chestnut mare that had taken shelter in his cave. Perhaps it was something that was simply shared among the mountain women... but still he could not help but wonder if it was something else.

Nonetheless she speaks again, a single audit flickering amid the tangle of cream and caramel colored locks that tumble down the broad curve of his neck. She gives him her name... Wasp. He bites back the sarcastic comment about how long and in depth his conversation with Macabre had to be before she was willing to relinquish her name. Perhaps somehow the Peak mares believed that to know ones name gave strangers a chance to hold power over them. Perhaps not. Whatever the reason, he felt somewhat relieved to find that Wasp offered hers to him willingly, and with such gratitude. To say that it stroked his deeply buried ego was perhaps an understatement, he loved to be thanked and well any bit of gratitude was equal to adoration in his mind's eye. Shoulders roll beneath his skin as Rougaru does his best to feign indifference though rest assured the moment would last awhile still in his mind's eye. A single brow raises as Rougaru shifts the weight from one hind leg to the other, "Macabre said the Peak mares would be looking for them. I take it that neither has found their way back to your mountains yet?" he inquires this time genuine curiosity clinging to each syllable of his words. He had assumed, when he had come to the caves that morning and found three sets of hoofprints headed once more for the ocean surf, that Macabre and the mother and daughter had been headed back for the Peak. While he had not come out and directly asked them where it was they were headed.. he had only assumed the most logically solution. From what Wasp was allowing to let slip, it appeared as though non had returned. Perhaps the sea had finally claimed them? He gives his head a shake, riding the thought of torrential waves and throaty screams from his thoughts. No, he would not let that thought linger in his mind. He did not agree with the mountain mares way of life... but he would not want to see any drown.