Indira is no stallion-hating Vulcan, but there are some stallions who don't deserve the air inside their lungs. Raider is one of them. Indira's gut twists with disgust as she remembers what he did to her, and what the threat of his existence means for her family in the Forest. Indira will erase his threat, one way or another, and such a mission starts with this.

"Thank you." Indira responds. Her voice cracks under the weight of what she's doing, but her eyes are certain.

Rougaru's touch is electric. There is a raw energy inspired by an unexpected coupling. Indira had no intentions of breeding with anyone, much less an enemy, but the world works in mysterious ways. The danger in this decision and the heat of their desire quickest her pulse. Her coat shines anew with a fresh sheen of sweat. The mare shivers, but not from any cold. Paradise is on fire.

The pain of last night turns to an unexpected pleasure of morning. Indira's dark eyes admire the suddenly-attractive masculine curve of Rougaru's neck. The graceful fall of his silver mane draws attention to his shoulder, and all the muscles working under a rich coffee-colored coat. He traces a sensual path along her body. His movements are slow, gentle, and altogether infuriating. She reaches out with her own snout to trace the hard edges of his physique. She shifts her weight, so their bodies come together, side-by-side. Their scents mingle, and their touch moves mountains. When the well-rounded swell of the stallion's haunch lingers hear her mouth, she can't resist. Indira aims a rough nip at the meatiest part of his baroque backside. There is pleasure in pain, and a wild encouragement in the act. It's Indira's way of saying "I want this.", without words.

Indira would be surprised to learn Rougaru ever took a mare by force. A stallion as handsome as this shouldn't have to force his way onto anyone's back. The ladies should be lining up for moments like this one. Indira isn't one to kiss and tell but rumors of how well Rougaru treats a lady might spread across the island of Luthien in the coming seasons.

Indira widens her stance and fits herself well into the fold of Rougaru's forelegs. She moves with him, in a dance older than time itself. The mare voices her pleasure with low, rhymic grunts. All of Atlantis will know what they've done. Before all of the Gods, Indira takes the wolf to bed, and hopes spring brings her his young, and no one else's.

"Wolves make better lovers than demons." she openly admits. Their fun is over far too soon, but Indira finds another reason to smile as she wonders what a foal of theirs might look like. Will she have silver hair like Rougaru? Will he have those haunting green eyes? "And should make much better sires."