Rougaru is not a fool. He has not built his kingdom on the whims of a single mare nor has he let it fall at the hands of a heart (though if any could do it he felt remotely sure that Zjeena and Monster would be the ones to make it happen). However of any female he has ever met, it is Vanya who knows easiest how to play up her sexual curves and delicate contours. He does not miss the way her chocolate and white neck arched, causing the long ends of her black mane to fall neatly into place moving with the slightest hints of breeze. Her dark lashes blink slowly, her dark eyes enticing even in the months that do not accompany the sweet nectar of fertility. He cannot help the rise of lust that seeps through his veins, cannot help the perk of his own ears as she draws in her own breath and fixes him with a hungry gaze. There is pleasure in the way her eyes roam freely over his body. He will not deny that he finds himself arching his neck a bit tighter, his skin growing a bit more taunt and defined over hard muscle. Though he could have her there was something more appealing and refreshing when it came from her want of him. He wanted to see the same hunger reflect in her own eyes.

Drogon is a lively boy, his presence a pleasant distraction even when he wished the boy suddenly asleep or off chasing after the other foals of Paradise. Of course he knew that Vanya was not exactly thrilled with the idea of joining in with the masses but still it was a pleasant enough thought. Nonetheless as the boy brightens, his eyes gleaming even in the dim light beneath the jungle floor, Rougaru finds himself unable to pull his attention away from Vanya for long. Drogon bounces beside him, emerald eyes of his own bright with mischief, until Vanya sends him off on some absent errand. He does not miss the hard glare she is awarded, nor does he miss the gleam of jealousy that flares its head as it had in his own eyes so many times. He too had once been a young colt desperate for his own mother's complete attention. It had not helped that Hound kept her with a small foal at heels, (no doubt in an effort to assure that she would not get any sneaking ideas in her head). He too remembered being desperate for her attention and yet never seemed to find time alone. Father had been a different story entirely. He was almost always at father's heels which was perhaps why he resented the old man and his hard ways so much. It had formed him into the stallion he was today... but that was beside the point.

A sympathetic smile curves his lips as affectionately he reaches out to bump Drogon's rump in passing. "Mind your mother boy. You only have one." he assures him, emerald eyes blinking encouragement. "We will have all day and night yet to go before you can be declared a winner." he adds chuckling more to himself than anything else. He may have just assigned Vanya another sleepless night, mischief can be shared in more ways than one.

In the moment's after Drogon's hoofbeats fade into the other voices of the jungle, Vanya transforms herself completely. No longer is she the mild mannered woman, content in the motherhood lifestyle that had settled itself upon her. In the moment that her child leaves her, she once more becomes the sexy seductress both wiley and cunning in her ways. Her words are meant to bite, a sting as wounding as the fact that each day made itself more clear that Drogon was not his own blood. Paper thin nostrils flare as once more the possessive and jealous bones begin to wedge themselves deeper into his broad form. Possessively he takes a step towards her as she brushes her muzzle beneath the wind tattered layer of caramel tresses. Her touch is sensually soft, lulling the caged beast with pleasant images of her body beneath his and basking afterglow of affectionate touches.

Her bite is hard, bringing a feral growl to his lips but before he can turn on her in retaliation (not that there was ever much chance that she would be hurt by him), she is away from him, tossing her chocolate head and dark eyes alight with amusement. She thinks she has him figured out, thinks that his request might be one so simply put as filling what void already lay in her open womb. How he wants it. Even now he feels his mouth salivating at the prospect of his seed swelling her belly and his child suckling hungerily at her teats. But it is not enough. One night of passion would tie her for such a small time, he needed more. Her laughter brings him to close the distance between them, his own wolfish grin replaced with sly knowing. He looms closer to her, his thick neck snaking forward to linger the faintest touch over her supple skin where his mark had once lingered. "If it were so simple little dancer, I would have already sated the hunger in my loins. More times than naught I have craved the feeling of my body over yours, the sweet ecstasy of my seed in your fertile belly but that would not tame you." he growls, drawing her delicious skin into his mouth only to release it with the salty tang of her flesh upon his tongue. "I would not beg you to carry my foal but give you the honor of such an offer should you desire it." he breathes, withdrawing now to settle her with a steady gaze, willing his hormones and manhood to remain firmly in place. "Your freedom comes at the cost of what you hold dearest.... Drogon." he finishes a malicious grin upon his lips. "He might not be mine by blood but he is mine no less. Since you laugh at the offer to remain an honored part of my harem then I might as well keep my pound of flesh as payment." he muses the wolfish grin returning. Perhaps it would give him time still to change her mind.