The muscular stallion was very pleased with himself. He had managed to come upon these new and unfamiliar islands, claim himself a homeland AND claim his first mare... all in a matter of a few weeks. Grant it, the finding of a mare took much longer than he had hopes, but well, picking were quite slim these days. Breeding season was upon them and just about every mare he had come across was either already knocked up or surrounded by a number of suitors and quite frankly Rougaru didn't have the time to sit there and attempt to woo a said mare with seductive tones and false promises. That is why his coming upon the little black mare on the beach had been so fortuitous and well damn near put his ego through the clouds. With this ego boost, there wasn't very many things that he felt he couldn't do and well, it had him thinking... there was a neighboring herd land to the west of the Deserts and well, he needed to make himself known.

The chocolate stained stallion strode through the desert, savoring the feel of the sands under his hooves. He had lived in many places, visited many different lands but the reality of it was that there was nothing quite like the feel of the malleable sands beneath his feet. The dry air and rolling dunes were in his blood, were more of a home to him than any other terrain. He would not want to call home anywhere else.

The Dunes are not far from the oasis in the Desert herd lands where he spent most of his time. And, quite frankly, he was in no hurry so he took his time in ambling into the Dunes, pausing for a moment here and there to sniff the markers left by pas rulers that marked the borders between herds. A wolfish grin tugs at the corners of his whiskered lips at the scents he found there. Stale. It had been many months since last the borders were marked by a ruler... and clearly none would come running to defend the lands against his intrusion. He snorts and pauses now, deep auburn eyes casting a roaming gaze over the rolling dunes that made up the kingdom. Everything seemed peaceful and relatively empty. He snorts loudly and gives his proud head a shake, sending cream colored tangles settling haphazardly down both sides of his muscular neck. A single audit flickers as the stallion waits, curious to see if there were any horses from the old herd that might still remain. Surely the fresh smell of his testosterone soaked scent would not be one that was quickly missed.