The Lost Islands
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Common

Force-claiming is allowed here once a week per character, as is blocking force-claims by the Peak/Lagoon (as a whole) once a week. Rollover is on Sundays.

Use caution when the Wolf comes aknockin; (claim)

Rougaru was finally beginning to feel a sense of peace sweep over the islands. No longer did he nor the wolf feed the constant need to look over his shoulders or wear himself thin patrolling the shores of Paradise for sight or sound of the gray stallion of the Bay. No longer did his scent linger on the trees and rock and brush of every direction the wolf turned. Peace was at last within reach; but for how long.

Rougaru was a seasoned warrior. Telltale scares littered his body, symbols of battles past. Each one, win or lose, had been a hard earned lesson and gave voice to the fame that told of the jungle pack in hushed reverence. His pack. Today as the days before, they grew stronger under the watchful eyes of his queens of fire and ice. Passion and compassion. No longer did he fear the downfall of their empire. The pack would prevail.

And yet he still finds himself trailing the familiar winding paths of the main island, his thick locks of cream and caramel snagging here and there in the underbrush as he paused in his search. Liland may have given up his reign over the bay, his scent faint but did that mean he was truly gone from the islands? He had to be sure.

Nostrils flare as time and again he pauses, sifting through the familiar and foreign scents for what he sought. So far, it was gone.

He moves through the commons at a prancing trot, taunt muscles rippling beneath the healthy sheen of his glossy chocolate hide. Multifaceted eyes of emerald green glitter with pleasure and amusement as he lets his gaze roam over the forms familiar and foreign. It was not an uncommon sight, seeing a mare surrounded by stallions intent on wooing them with false promise or display of bravado. Hell even he had displayed himself in such a manner from time to time in hopes of procuring another face to add to his respectable following.

For a moment he pauses to watch from afar, as the familiar form of Xiomara charges towards a duo at a brisk pace. The mare of the Shores was a different breed for sure and commanded respect but it was still odd to see her claiming for her own.

Movement from his perephrial catches his attention and proud head lifts as the large stallion turns for face the approaching mare. She looks exhausted from the swim and Rougaru cannot help the smile that tugs his lips upward into a smile. Yes. He remembered the day he first managed the swim. In his book it gave a whole new meaning to life or death. The sight of Xiomara is forgotten now as he watches the mare drop onto the green grasses and roll fervently until her pretty splotched skin is covered with dirt and dried litter. Absently he gives his own chocolate colored skin a shake as as saucer-like hooves propel him towards her at a smooth clipped gait. Large head bobs gently with the movement as he smiles warmly at her. "I daresay I have never seen someone enjoy a roll with quite the same enthusiasm." he remarks, thick plume of cream an caramel switching idly back and forth against his thick legs. "Must have come from the mainland huh? It is quite a long swim. I've heard some even drown or get swept off course. Lucky you made it. " He added with a wry smile. "Name is Rougaru. Of Atlantis. Little smaller island south of here. What is it that they call you? Where you came from of course."

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