Rougaru just could not help himself. He had freed Zjeena to return to Liland and the Bay that she spoke of so highly, and apart of him felt that perhaps he should have escorted her, just to ensure that she and the twins did make it to Tinvuel without any complications. At the time, he felt it best that he did not, not only would the pretty little fjord not appreciate his overprotective dotting, but well he knew how well Liland would appreciate seeing his face. An so they had left Paradise in the early morning light while he stood back on the shores and watched until their bobbing heads disappeared beyond the cresting waves.

For a time she left his mind, for a time the joyous reunion with Monster and the finalizing plans with Warsaw began to take forefront to his attention but regardless still Zjeena and even Nattergal and Havelle were not far from the back of his mind. He wondered how they were finding life in the Bay, if the foals were finding enough grazing and if Liland had given Zjeena rest. He knew that he should not care, that she had not promised to return to him nor did he expect her too, but still he saw her coy smile and that twinkle in her dark eyes each night as sleep overtook him. He wondered if she knew of the coming battle, if Liland had been read in though he highly doubted it since it was Bjorn, Cullen and himself the ones who met that day in the Ridge and Liland was absent. Perhaps Warsaw saw him as a weak link? Perhaps there were other things that had transpired and lead to pale stallion's absence. He did not know. And the unknown is what lead him to the surf on this day.

He needed to see her.

Rougaru did not like to let his emotions show. Did not like others to see him need, but he was beyond that now. He needed Zjeena as he needed Monster... as he needed Wasp. He needed to know she was safe. Warm waters turn cold as strong legs churn through the icy waters that surround the Bay. His roguish features are grim, emerald eyes emotionless as thick hooves find purchase in the frigid shallows. Nostrils quiver as he sifts through the scents of fir, pine, spruce, and cedar. She made it, her sweet scent is strong here, the twins as well. No scent of blood, no decaying flesh but was she okay. For a moment he lingers in the shallows, debating on whether or not he should turn back towards Atlantis or venture a call for her. He knew Liland would be less than pleased to see him here, would no doubt throw a fit of rage and put on some proud show of command but he did not care. He would deal with that if it meant ensuring that she was well.

In the end, as his thick waterlogged frame draws from the shallow shores he lets a deep throated nicker rumble from his lungs, calling for the pretty little cream mare with her thick salt and pepper locks. He needed to see for himself that she was safe... and gods help Liland if she was not. He would burn the islands down for her.