Desert

When the duo first appeared on the horizon just after sunrise, Rougaru was not quite sure whether they were real or a figment dreamed up by his vivid imagination. The wolf did tend to do that from time to time. Not lately of course, but that does not mean that it still was not possible.

From his secluded refuge on the far side of the shallow oasis he watches as cautiously the pair, their colors hidden from his seeking eyes by the bright sunlight silhouettes their frames into muted shades of dark color. At first, he mistakes them for antelope or the fleet footed gazelle, cautious and nervous of even the shift in the wind through the trees. One leads and the other follows close at the hip. Only the inspection of his keen ol’ factory sense tells him that in fact they are equine and not some remnants of a once great throng of deer or other desert dwellers. To say his curiosity has peaked would be an understatement. It is not often that horses wander across the desert alone, much less a single pair. Salem is not quite fond of those who are not familiar with her dangers and though neither look any worse for wear, that does not mean that Rougaru is above taking advantage of the interlopers…. For the good of the desert and all.

The silver bay stallion remains silent, watching from the shadows of the acacia tree as the pair approach the oasis and drink deeply of the freshwater found there. The wolf demands he make his approach now, that he lunge from his hiding place among the shadows and surprise the pair before they can have a chance to drink their fill and recharge their strained bodies with fresh water. The predator always takes the weakest members of a herd for its prey, however that is where Rougaru and the wolf differ. The stallion demands the strongest. With a strangled breath he clasps the chains down tighter on the beast and watches with multifaceted eyes dancing as gulp after hungry gulp, the pair quench their thirst. From this distance now, he can tell it is mother and daughter that have wandered into his desert, not two marauding companions or mated pair. (though he doubted that he would have even turned them down nowadays). Only when the pretty roan mare lets a satisfied sigh escape her lips, does he manifest from the shadows with a wolfish grin plastered firmly upon his lips. ”And here I was thinking the desert heat was beginning to play tricks on me…” he murmurs, his voice graveled from lack of use. Thick skull tilts sideways, sending thick cream and caramel forelock settling into the crook of his brow. ”But maybe it is that the desert was playing with you instead. It is such a dangerous place if you don’t know where you are going.” he breathes, sloshing through the shallow bank to bring himself along the mare’s right side. He was no fool, he knew just how finicky mares could be with their children. Let her keep the yearling behind her, let her turn to face him, at least that would give him an advantage should she attempt to flee. The smile on his whiskered lips broadens. ”My name is Rougaru. Welcome to my desert.” he finishes, pausing a few lengths from her, waiting patiently to see just which kind of prey the wolf would face today.