She'd learned her lesson.

Probably not the one that Rougaru wanted her to learn, but she'd learned one nonetheless. Mostly, she'd learned that if she truly wanted to get out of Paradise, the last place she should be looking for eligible males is inside of Paradise. Now, this in and of itself was a problem. Her opportunities to escape from under Rougaru's nose were slim, as evidenced by the speed at which he had interrupted the foolish Peak mare's attempt to steal her. Not to mention, even if she did slip his leash, her options to travel were exceedingly limited.

The child she'd allowed the gray stallion to plant in her womb was swelling in her womb and even the thought of travel made her grey with exhaustion. Thus, she was limited only to the island of Atlantis with it's dense jungle and sandy shores. There were definitely worse prisons, but it was a dreary existence being someone's one mare among many.

If one thing sustained Vanya, it was adoration. Rougaru wanted her, but it was not with the fervor with which he craved the drama inducing dun mare or the wicked tobiano. She was hardly more than a trinket he viewed with a possessive edge and while that was flattering, it was certainly not enough.

The slender mare, lithe despite the obvious bulge of her stomach, danced across the pale sandy beaches of the Ridge. Small puffs of sand burst from her lilting canter until she finally slows to a walk, her elegant neck arched as she peers through the jungle trees for someone to converse with. Her pale lips part with a feminine call of greeting, fluted ears pricking forward.

Surely someone would be able to come out to play.