To imply that Vanya wanted to be in the Peak would be a gross oversimplification of the forces that were. She wanted no part of this barren, hard land. The petite mare had grown comfortable in her lush prison, fed by easily attainable greenery and the balmy temperatures. For as much grief as she would give Atlantis for it's noisy wildlife and overbearing rulers, she would have gladly taken it over this rocky wasteland... except for all the pesky strings that came attached with such a decision.

The Peak, for her, represented a grudgingly taken safe haven. A mythical bunker in which she could hide until she either got her way, or changed her plan. She knew, objectively, that Rougaru could challenge for her here the same as he could if she sashayed her way into a herd, but she had staked her life on the premise that he would be more reluctant too. That the population of the Peak would be strong enough to make him think twice about simply issuing a flat challenge for her, and to her extreme delight, it had worked.

As much as she would have enjoyed making up with the stallion if he had won her in a challenge, this arrangement would far better serve her.

She lifts her head with typical coquettish grace, a taunt ready on her lips when the figure of the dark mare becomes visible and her delight withers into almost neutrality, save for the faint frown that forms on her lips. She'd had little to do with the imposing, brutish mare, and had made sure to keep it that way. Vanya had not made any effort to establish or build relationships among the hardened mares of the Peak, a fact that she regretted as soon as the sour look on Wasp's face became relevant. Ignorant to the shared history between the two of them, Vanya can only base her assumptions on the facts that she can see.

First, that the mare had taken the time to cast her a sour look. Not the stallion she'd escaped from, but her. Although the spotted mare did her best to curtail the worst of her suddenly unhappy expression, she cannot help the way her fluted ears turn back and her gaze narrows on the Peak leader. Her unease only deepens as Rougaru seems to greet the mare fondly, stretching forward to exchange breath and settling himself a short distance away.

This is not the heated exchange that Vanya has bargained for, but a civil discussion. There are no demands given, no challenges issued. No blood will seemingly be shed on her behalf today, which led to the question of why Rougaru was here. Something about it rubs the painted mare the wrong way and she shifts closer, dropping her muzzle to trail it lazily through the lush grass as she moved close enough to listen in. Still, she takes care to preserve her image of a woman in need of protect, angling a path that put her behind Wasp and out of Rougaru's reach.

Vanya's eyes glitter as he calls her his own, still thrilled by his claim of ownership, even if it did not come with any true effort to win her back. Rougaru had once forced her to Paradise, and she was determined to not allow it to happen again. If he wanted her back, he would need to grovel. As he emphatically says that his child should be born in the jungle and she wants to audibly scoff, but keeps her muzzle to the ground, hidden amongst the lush spring grass. She could try to lie and say that it wasn't his child, and that she had in fact allowed some other lucky shmuck atop her back when he wasn't looking, but the odds of convincing Rougaru were slim. He had not ridden out the full end of her heat, having left her to go steal Titania, but he had been present for enough of it to be fairly certain that the child that she carried now was his own.

Her amber gaze switches then to Wasp, curious as to the mare's reaction. As far as Vanya understood the law of the land, the Peak was not in the business of trading it's free mares away just because a stallion demanded it. Then again, it wasn't as though Wasp had met Rougaru's arrival with hostility. This again, raises another red flag. They had a history, Vanya was sure, but she was not nearly as concerned with their past as she was with her future. She would have to resort to desperate measures to prevent being traded back to him.

She would not step another foot in Paradise until had Rougaru had been made to suffer the same heart-wrenching reality of having a child taken from him.

"You have other children, Rougaru." She finally speaks up, shifting forward to stand just behind Wasps's hip, her lip trembling as though in fear. "We're free now, Drogon and I. You know," she adds a little forcefulness to her voice and lifts the delicate arch of her neck higher in emphasis, "my son that you tried to take from me."

Vanya has absolutely no doubt that Rougaru remembers every vicious minute of their last major conversation, in which he had offered her her freedom at the cost of her son's allegiance. Said conversation had quickly devolved into a physical confrontation, the aftermath of which rested in the heavy swells of her flanks whilst firmly pressing on her bladder. And while their coupling had not been entirely consensual perhaps, neither was it entirely not. Vanya had known what she was doing to him, even as she did it. Wasp, fortunately, had not been present and despite the time that Vanya has spent here, she has not aired her grievances with the other Peak mares. Carefully and with extreme caution, Vanya has kept her trump cards pressed close to her breast so as to not tip her hand too early. Surely, even if Wasp were so black-hearted as to trade away an expectant mother back to the stallion that had come back for her, she would think twice upon learning that he had attempted to separate her family once already. Much less trade her back to a rapist.

"You won't get another chance to force me again," she finally adds, her voice quivering. To emphasize her point, she turns her wide-eyed gaze back to Wasp. It is a desperate tactic to try and get the fierce mare on her side and she is not entirely sure how well her ruse is working. She hoped that by employing the truth in combination with her falsified emotions that she might still be able to connive the mare into acting on her behalf. Vanya's familiarity with manipulation is largely focused on the male sex, those who were more easily swayed by a swish of her tail or a coquettish grin. Sex. Vulnerability. Flattery. More Sex. All were easy to use tools that she could abuse to get her way in almost any situation. Mares are more difficult. They require an appeal to one's heart... and in truth, Vanya wasn't entirely sure she still had one.