Nyimara.

Dark ears tilt forward amid the windswept tangle of his cream and caramel mane as the large hessian lifts his proud head from the thick tangle of green shoots he had been casually grazing on. Winter on the other islands did not hold the same force behind it as it did here on Atlantis. Where other horses were forced to deal with cold weather and deep snows, Atlantis welcomed them with warmer climate and lush growth. During the majority of the winter months, Rougaru found himself preferring to remain close to his small herd, as much for safety as laziness. Though he was far from having his bones bleach in the sunshine somewhere, he did tend to feel the cold wind and ice in his muscles and bones more and more these days. Old war wounds healed but never completely. So, as winter ravaged the other islands, the stallion kept close to his herd and contented himself with watching as his mares grew heavy with foals.

Aside from the annoying squawking of birds that have migrated to Atlantis to escape the cold of winter’s chill, the season was overall peaceful. At least, until his wayward daughter returned.

Her voice was not one easy to miss, and the summons in her call screamed of importance. Multifaceted eyes of emerald narrow suspiciously as he lifts his proud head, listening as she charges headlong through the dense jungle, appearing in a flurry of broken vines and startled birds. As she brushes past him, he reaches out his muzzle to rake his blunt teeth over the slope of her spine, savoring the flavors that lingered on her skin.

Suspicion rises as she moves past him, her gaze shifting over his herd before rising to meet his searching eyes once more. Emerald eyes scan her form, sleek and heavy with child but even that weakness did not hide the fierceness that burned in her dark eyes or the tension built up beneath her skin. Something was wrong. However it was not something he ever expected to hear her say.

Nyimara has never lied to him. Always the mahogany mare has been ambitious and full of pride and reverence in herself. She has always strived for perfection and weakness was met with indifference and perhaps even cruelty. She is a vain creature, but there is no vanity in her speech today, only surety. Her son… killed by Faolain.

For a moment he is speechless, his dark eyes of emerald gagging her own for truth or some signs of madness. However the only madness he sees there is the rabid pain of a mother torn from her child far too soon. His own grandson. The wolf rises with a sudden growl, its sharp teeth gleaming in the sunlight as golden eyes narrow in hatred and anger. Faolain. Again the black mare had broken the bond that had once bound them together as strong leaders of Atlantis. There was even a time where he was willing to follow her lead as matriarch of the island! How that thought burned in the pit of his belly as anger rose in his own eyes. This, this was yet another slap in his face. More proof that she cared nothing for the unity that he tried to build. First Chelle and now Nyimara’s son!

Angrily he stomps a single hoof, his thick saucer like obsidian leaving a deep indentation in the rich black soil. Ashen nostrils flare as he too looks to his mares, his dark lips pressed firmly together. ”This is a slap against us all. One that will not go unchecked.” he breathes, pausing a moment before turning his gaze to Monster and Vanya, ”What say you my fiery queens? My pack? What course of action shall we take? A direct attack or something else?” while he and the wolf were determined to see Faolain pay for her blatant attack on their family, perhaps Monster or his sly Vanya might see a better plan of attack. Either way, he would make certain that the black mare and her silver haired lover felt the wrath of the wolf pack.