The large silver bay stallion allows himself to get lost in the depths of his own mind as he gazes out over the familiar paths that wind before him. Sunlight dapples through the dense canopy above, providing relief from the sweltering heat that often accompanies the noon day sunshine. High overhead, the brightly colored parrots squawked their displeasure at the interference of his resounding hoofprints on the tangled roots. Others might find the noise deafening, but Rougaru hardly noticed it anymore. At least, not the squawks now. His time on Atlantis has taught him to discern the different voices and the warning cries of each. He could tell from the sounds of the birds or lack thereof, what danger might lurk nearby. As much as the wolf despised the bothersome creatures, it was a useful gift that he did his best to pass on to his sons. So far, only Akela seemed to have any patience in listening to the feathered flyers. Rougaru secretly wondered if that was only because the boy found the creatures quite fascinating. Even as a child, he remembered Zjeena leading him through the low hanging branches where the bravest of parrots dared to light. Oftentimes, Akela would return to regale him with stories of how the Fjord queen managed to gather a few in her mane. As he grew older, even the grullo colt managed to learn the trick and Rougaru found himself shaking his head with a laugh as he passed a particular nest built from lost strands of his son’s mane. He thought that might teach the boy but it never did. Though more laid back than the rest of his children, the lot of them seemed to share the same stubborn streak that he himself carried proudly.

’Excuse me…’ The soft voice cuts through the deep recesses of his mind and brings him once more to the present. Small dark ears perk amid the tangled coils of his cream and caramel mane as the feminine voice registers in his mind. Though the jungle still hides her from view, he can just catch the shuffle of hooves through the palm and leaf litter that cover the nutrient rich soil. Curiously he presses towards her, following the suspicious calls of the parrots overhead. Thick skullcap dips beneath a low hanging palm branch as saucer-like hooves step over a broad leafed elephant ear and onto the path. For the first time he sees her. Depthless, multifaceted eyes of emerald blink against the bright rays of sunlight that frame her inky skin. Long, curved ears stood alert amid the long curls of obsidian forelock that framed her delicate face. The wolf perked to life as the memory of Indira arose unbidden. Though he had occasionally passed a few long eared horses in Salem, it was only Indira that he had ever truly met. Despite the ups and downs of their relationship in the past, he still held the fierce desert mare dear to his heart. However seeing the same desert bred mare now upon his own shores, it caused his brows to raise in curiosity.

Ever the suave talker, a roguish smile curved across the ash dusted lips of the chocolate stallion. Broad head tilts towards her as sleek serpentine stretched his muzzle towards hers to offer an exchange of breath should she be so willing to accept it. ”No intrusion little bird, not at all.” he begins, his warm smile broadening as he shuffles his large feet beneath him into a more relaxed position. ”My name is Rougaru, lord of Paradise. This, dear one, is perhaps the safest place you might find…” he continues pausing a moment to let his emerald gaze linger on the swollen curve of her belly. ”In your condition anyway.” he finishes with a flick of his tail. ”Where are you from? It is not often such desert beauties wash up on my shores unprotected and so heavy in foal to boot. Is there anything I can do to help you little blackbird?”