The battle was over.

For Rougaru, the idea of one side winning and another losing was obsolete. In this moment, he felt as though there was no winner. Both sides had suffered greatly in the battle that slowly was beginning to seem more and more pointless in his mind. DId he agree with a mare ruling a herd? Not at all. However as long as she did so on her own little island off in the distance and did not in the least bit affect his herd... well he did not see the harm in it. Warsaw on the other hand, the stallion saw it as an embarrassment, however from the rumors that ruled the islands, he had his fair share of embarrassing moments. Rougaru might have been defeated by Liland... but Warsaw was defeated by a mare. To the wolf there was not much difference. Liland would forever be a childish bitch in his eyes but well, he would silence him soon. Zjeena would have her vengeance. His mares would always have justice. He would protect his pack.

The mare before him seemed to suddenly recognize that she is no longer alone. A single ear swivels backwards amid the windswept tangle of obsidian mane and defiantly she lift her chin, pearly whites flashing in warning and threat.

As if on cue there she is. A vivid memory in his mind. Her anger had not been directed at him at the time, for the tides of war kept them separated but still he remembers seeing her charging towards the masses of inlet, paradise and lagoon stallions and mares that rose against the forest. She had been a fleeting memory then, a blast from the past that he would gladly have met with delightful eyes... were it not for the battle raging around them. Jabari had been on his heels then, and Rougaru was not about to face a familiar face or friend. It had taken all he could to keep himself from Wasp or her mother. Though Wasp was a mare of the Peak, there was a bond he felt with her, a kinship that went beyond the understanding of even himself. The wolf saw her as his own and even he could not deny it. She was a friend.

Looking at the mare's tattered ear now, he sees her. "Indira" like a spring rain washing away the final remains of winter he feels the memories rising to the forefront of his mind. The Desert. Indira. Tarek. Swift. He takes a step backwards, overwhelmed by the power of those memories. Tarek... he thought he saw him there in the forest. It must be where Indira and he now called home. Under Persephone. Funny how he thought she would have no effects on him and yet she was here in his mind.

He gives his thick skull a shake now, long wind tattered forelock settling in a haphazard splay over the broad flat of his brow. Chocolate colored ears stand at attention as emerald green eyes blink away any semblance of suspicion and caution. It was Indira after all. "I am Rougaru. This is my home that you have found solace in." he breathes glancing beyond her at the empty beach from which she came. For a moment he is silent, watchful as the thoughts play through his mind, but still he sees her only as Indira. Plus, the war was over. At least for him anyway. Muscles roll beneath russet colored shoulders as the muscular stallion takes a single limping step away from her, back towards the sheltering shadow of the jungle trees. Winter may be beginning on the islands, but still Atlantis was warm especially beneath the bright afternoon sun. "You will find no enemy here. Come, join me beneath the trees shade and tell me what brings you here." he murmurs, his words unusually quiet and reserved. Times were changing.