Common

Times were changing. The changes, were not exactly in his favor nor were they exactly against him. At least not yet they were not. Deep in the pit of his stomach the wolf growled. Unrest and unease giving a newfound fire to the burning hunger for life and memory. The beast was determined. Fate would never allow them to live forever and yet each day the sands of time fell from the hourglass. Each day a new bone aches in the cool morning air. Each day a new white hair appeared upon his grizzled muzzle or lightened the pale scares upon his hide. Age was nemesis to all living creatures; it was an enemy he could not outrun forever. However, for the time being, he still had plenty of time to secure his family and his legacy here upon the islands. He was still in the prime of life and nothing could stop him.

He drove into the shallows with a renewed urgency to his step. The inner pep talk enough to bolster the complacent demeanor he had gained as of late into a fierce burning rage. He would not go quietly into the night. Not today.

Paper thin nostrils flare as he takes in deep breathes, his thick saucer-like hooves kicking violently against the restraints of the chilled oceans. Autumn was fading, soon winter would be upon its heels and with it the turning of the seasons again. He had done his best to hide the beast, to let the peace and tranquility reign within his herd but the time for peace was over. The beast craved chaos and despite his victory over Shamari for the vengeance of Celestria, it was not enough. The wolf called for more.

Ears press forward amid the water-logged tangle of his silver mane as the main island comes into view. He needed more. Though his herd was mighty, it was still not enough to sate the beast and secure his immortality on the islands. There had been several times now that he had come to the main island in hopes of adding to his beautiful collection of spirited trinkets, as of late, the pickings had been thin. He made no attempt to steal away another stallion's prospects, seeing them all as not quite worth the trouble... until today.

She stands picturesque against the white sandy beach with the foam tipped waves lapping at her hooves. Emerald green eyes blink against the salt water as he takes her thickly arched neck and bright blue and white skin. She was no mere dainty dove like many of the desert breeds that had suddenly come in droves upon the islands. Neither was she thickly built with long feathers and an abundance of hair as many of the other draftier breeds that appeared from the north. No, instead she was a fine mixture of both with elegant lines and finely shaped muzzle. So enraptured with her presence is he that he almost misses the bright eye sore that was the desert stallion Cain. Seems he was not the only one drawn to the pretty dove alone by the sea.

Ears fold backwards as lips peel back from yellowing teeth. Yellow eyes blaze behind green as the beast watches Cain approach her with kind words and even more gentle smile. From the twitch of his ears and the nervousness that stretched his black and white skin, the desert stallion was not completely naive to his approach. They had faced each other once before with both eyes set upon one mare. Rougaru told himself he did not hold grudges and yet the wolf growled its disagreement. This was personal.

A scream of challenge roars from his lungs as thick legs pound the surf. He comes upon them as a storm, spraying sea water and sand in his wake. Ears bury themselves beneath the thick mantle that hung heavily atop his skullcap. "Mine." he growls, the guttural voice of the wolf leading volume to his baritones as he slides to a halt in the space that separates them. Cain would not take this one from him today.

Instead of waiting for the desert stallion to make a move, Rougaru turns. Pivoting on his front legs he kicks out his hind in warning should Cain decide to venture closer. Emerald eyes do not leave the pretty mare of smoke and ice. A wolfish grin slides across his whiskered maw as he snakes his head forward to pinch the flesh of her shoulder, marking her as his own. "Mine." he repeats, the word lingering upon his tongue as his pink tongue rolls across his lips, savoring the taste of her salty skin. He was not unakin to violence, nor was he unfamiliar with the displeasure of a mare who had just been claimed against her wishes. So many preferred the sweet words and empty promises some stallions offered. Those would not come from the wolf. Not today. Ears pin back as he takes another step towards her, angling his body towards the land to deny her the ease to escape from him into the woods and trees where his bulky body would find it much harder to maneuver. "Atlantis is calling." he murmurs, his words a dangerous whisper.