When the mares gathered upon the Forest shore it had not missed the lupine eyes that watched for them. Ruger did not join them at first as they set out into the salty waters, his gaze watching as they bobbed along among the waves. He was sure that Macabre could make the swim and that she would not let any of the others fall behind. But each member of the group had become important to the stallion for more than one reason.


It was worry that drove the painted stallion into the waters; his legs churning strongly as he followed behind them despite not being able to see them any longer. Only as he reached the Crossing was he able to drag in their scent once more, the fresh tracks upon the shore assuring him that they had made it. But the biggest danger had not passed; Cullen roamed these lands and the very thought of the pale stallion caused Ruger to pin his ears.


Picking up a trot, Ruger followed their tracks until he could hear voices up ahead. Slowing, he carefully walked closer until he could see the gathering ahead. The Peak mares; how their numbers had grown. The way they greeted Macabre made a strange warm feeling fill his chest; it was nothing like his up bringing in the Lagoon. This would be a safe and noble place for Bacardi to grow up and the fears Ruger once had now washed away.


Although he had been invited, Ruger no longer felt the need to be here. The small group that made up so much of his family was home and he needed to return to his. Turning away, Ruger quietly left the mares behind.