Akela did not know what it was that brought him here to the main island on this day, but he could only assume it was his own need to avoid the tension that seemed to have developed in paradise as of late. Since Nyimara’s appearance and the disturbing news that she brought with her, tension had been higher on Atlantis. More and more Rougaru found himself patrolling the border that marked the boundary between the Ridge and Paradise. Oftentimes, he would send out Akela or Loupgaru even when he just returned from a patrol. It was pointless in Akela’s opinion, however the scolding that Annubis had received at the hands of their sire that day had been vivid enough that Akela did not dare make the same mistake as his silver brother.
Perhaps it was that fact more than any other that made him decide to offer to do some recruiting. Of course he had never done any recruiting of any form before, and in truth, he was surprised that Rougaru agreed to such a request. No doubt his sire was hoping that finally he was beginning to feel some desire to strike out and “act like a real stallion” as the old wolf often called it. Akela had merely sought an escape but, well he might as well make an effort anyway.
His thick hooves leave shallow impressions in the sand as the grullo stallion draws himself effortlessly from the surf with a vigorous shake. Droplets of ocean water spatter on the sandy beach around him as Akela gives a heavy snort, finding his energy suddenly renewed by the shake of the water from his bones and the new and unfamiliar scents that flooded his olfactory senses. Akela forgot how different the islands could be. He has spent most years now lost in the depths of the jungle. While his boisterous brothers found little entertainment in the creatures and plants that grew there, Akela found himself enthralled by the wide variety of animal and plant life that called the jungle home. From long tailed lemurs and vocal monkeys to the tiny leaflike insects that traveled in lined droves up and down the gnarled tree trunks. Even the brightly colored birds that sought the jungle island as a place of refuge was a source of fascination for him. He learned a lot about the world around him and even more about himself. He learned that he had the patience to wait in silence as beautifully colored butterflies floated closer and closer to him, oftentimes, even landing on his hip or muzzle. He learned that exposed sand in the heart of the jungle often meant there was a deep pit buried beneath. He learned that stagnant water was a lure to giant snakes that hide beneath the cover of water and that moving water was the best to drink. He found that regardless of the time he spent alone, he never found himself bored of the world around him.
However, father did not quite see it that way. At least this way, the grullo stallion got his sire off his tail, for a few days anyway.
A flash of color draws his gaze now as the golden eyed stallion finds himself drawn to the mare of moonlight and shadow shaking her head. For a moment, he stands where he is, watching as she moved with graceful poise, her slender frame seeming to float effortlessly through the knee deep grasses of emerald. Perhaps it was the brilliant jades of spring that set her apart, that coupled with the variety of tiny wildflowers around her, it was almost captivating. However he was no casanova. He did not possess the skills of a smooth talker like Annubis or the gruff appearance that most mares found appealing like Loupgaru or Drogon. He was simply Akela. A silent sigh leaves his lips as the charcoal stallion draws himself up as much as possible and breaks past the barrier of oaks to join her in the open sunlight. Dark lashes blink against the bright sunlight as he approaches her with a friendly nicker, a gentle smile fixed upon his lips as he tilts his head towards her. ”H..Hello…” he murmurs, stopping a few feet from her and dropping his own muzzle to the earth to rip free a mouthful of clover. For a moment he remains silent, allowing his jaws to dissolve the succulent grasses and the silence to settle between them before beginning again. This time he lifts his head to gaze at her, the dark obsidian tendrils of his mane falling heavily across the flat of his brow. ”T..t...the c.c.clover is s.s.weet here. H.Have you t.t.ried it?” he asks silently cursing himself as the colthood stammering causes his words to rush together. His eartips felt hot with shame but he had gone this far, he could not turn around.