Rougaru misses nothing. Not when it comes to his beautiful little dove with the hurt wing. She had flourished since their return to Paradise, though her memory never seemed to return, the wolf felt confident that with time, the wounds that had been so raw would heal. For awhile that seemed to happen. The sagging skin disappeared beneath the growth of flesh and good nutrition. The once sagging silver mane and tail streamed behind her as she danced across the sandy beaches or lept like a graceful deer through the dense jungle. For a time, Rougaru felt secure in the wolf's assessment.... that is, until her return from the main island.

Had he known, had he been sure... if she but give him a name, he would have ripped the culprit to shreds. Even now the wolf paced beneath his skin, its gray fur on end as teeth flashed white in the sunlight that trickled through the trees. Monster found her first. His fiery queen was beginning to show compassion as the years continued to press on. Not with him of course, but with the other mares of the herd and for that he would gladly take her pinned ears or venomous tongue. She would always be his viper, but to Sonorae, she had become a confidant and so he kept himself away. He had hoped that she would seek him out, that once more he would awaken to her pressed against the warmth of his side or see the tender smile cross her lips. Like the brightly colored songbirds, she remained aloof and apart, atleast from him.

Was she ashamed? Was he wrong? What could he do? Over and over the questions plagued him as he watched her dejection continue to grow like the swelling of her belly. He had hoped in the beginning that perhaps the demon's seed would not take but the fates had other plans. Anger seethed beneath his skin, the wolf's golden eyes followed the curve of her belly and cursed the sire's life but that changed nothing.

When finally the time came for her to birth the child, Rougaru was pleased to see a daughter at her side. He would have liked it to be his, but it was a foal nonetheless. A joyous occasion. Or so he hoped. However still his silver dove avoided him. Dejection began to sit into his own skin as he wondered if it was him once more. Had he done her wrong? Did she blame him for what had happened to her? He had not protected her as he promised he would. Did she want to leave?

Day in and day out the questions continued to plague his mind until he could not take it any longer. With a heavy sigh and ears bent backwards he slowly approaches her and the small filly that curled near her dam's feet. A single deep baritone nicker rumbles from his lungs as he stops a distance from her, his emerald eyes searching. "She is beautiful my little dove..." he begins, his voice choking with insecurity and unrest. Pale forelock tumbles across his broad brow as he dips his head lower. "Just like her mother.... has she a name yet?" He wanted to beg her to stay, to beg her to give him a name so that he might return the smile to her lips and the joy to her eyes but he cannot seem to find the words. He wants to touch her. Wants to again feel the warmth of her velvet skin pressed against his own but he dares not spook her away. Now now when he has come this far already.