Common

The wolf was amused. If it was one thing he had learned in the years since his return to the islands, the mares here did not appreciate being claimed. He could not deny his own curiosity as he watched the painted woman, wondering how her reaction to Vasilissa's claim might appear. Some, like the little spotted mare Pidgeon that Liland had claimed as his own, seemed content in letting another make decisions for her. This one? She reminded him of the many other painted women in his life. If she was anything like them, it would not go over smoothly.

And it did not.

Despite himself, Rougaru suppresses an amused laugh. She did not appreciate it. A single haughty glance is issued to the black mare and the painted woman takes a step towards him. Politely he meets her outstretched muzzle, inhaling the salty perfume of her damp skin. "Eliza..." he murmurs, retracting his outstretched neck to flash her a warm grin. "A pleasure to meet you. Have you traveled far?" he inquires as dark chocolate ears strain forward amid the tangle of his cream and caramel colored tresses.

However Vasilissa's words break the tense silence that built up between the three of them. Multifaceted eyes of green shift to the black mare as she reminds him he is no saint. To his Rougaru cannot help but to chuckle in amusement and give his proud head a toss, a teasing gleam dancing in his gaze. "Now I never claimed to be a saint dearest, never." he murmurs pausing as a contented sigh falls past his lips. "But I must admit claiming seems unbefitting of a mare, even one as brash as yourself. Can your stallion not make it to the commons himself? One can only speculate his weakness." he muses.

She tries to infuriate him, tries to push the buttons to make the wolf rise its slathering jaws by telling him that he could not stop her, that Eliza would be coming to the thicket and despite the rise of his brow he keeps the beast contained.

He opens his mouth to speak but suddenly there is another charging forward. Ears prick in curiosity at the dappled gray mare who charges into their swarye. She speaks with the self assured venom that screams mare of the peak. Even before she announces herself properly images of Wasp flit through his mind. She attempts to berate him and Vasilissa and despite himself ears fall backwards in displeasure. "Khar is it? a pleasure I'm sure. How is the Peak fairing this winter? You seem rather thin for a mare in foal." he commented, doing his best to keep his tones neutral despite the displeasure that lingered there. He had no qualms with the Peak mares. Wasp was dear to him and wll the war that pitted them friend against friend had been at Warsaw's request. A lesson Rougaru would not fall victim to again.

He gives his proud head a shake, glancing from the mare Khar to Vasilissa and finally settling his gaze upon Eliza once more. "I fear we have gotten quite off subject. You were saying where you are from?" he inquires.