He had left her.

Despite her well-laid plans, and bare-faced threats, Rougaru had left her side as soon as her heat showed the faintest signs of fading. She had woken to the realization that she was alone once more, no longer the object of his affection, and seethed at the reality. Vanya hated herself for giving in, for allowing the dark stallion to climb atop her body and seed the next generation. In truth, very little of that conversation had gone her way. Rougaru's attempt to take Drogon from her would not be easily forgotten, and she vowed to make him pay in a way that would cut him most deeply.

He would not know the child that grew in her womb.

Days had passed since she had been left alone, and still she seethed. The reason for his departure was obvious as soon as the new mare arrived, and Vanya had seen from afar just how unhappy she was with her new prison. It was a feeling that Vanya could relate to, although having spent over a year in this claustrophobic jungle had softened her to it somewhat. Despite the heat, bugs, and incessant noise, there was no denying this land was a pretty jail to end up in.

Still, Vanya was no social butterfly. She did not seek the company of Rougaru's content herd mares, having no desire to be so pedestrian in her wants and needs. Idle companionship was for the weak, and Vanya was many things, but she was not weak.

It is only when she spots the white-speckled mare and the discontent red stallion gathering together that she feels as though her time might be better spent with them than alone. Regally she sails toward the group, her movements quiet in the gloom so as to not awaken the other residents. She does not arrive in time to hear their conversation about the ferns, only enough to catch the stallions commentary about prisoner numbers. Her pale lips twist in response and a soft, tinkling chuckle radiates from her as she takes a position near to both of them.

"Certainly not number one," she offers with a tight smile of her own. "I don't remember seeing you when Rougaru dragged me here a year ago. Or," she says as she turns toward the pretty speckled mare, a surge of jealousy rising in her chest. "You."

The elegant mare stops near the two of them, her long tail whipping through the air as she settles. After a moment's consideration, she tilted her dished head in greeting. "I'm Vanya."She considers how much she wants to share, but errs on the side of trust, for now. What was the worst that could happen? That they would rat her out to Rougaru? The worst that would happen would be that he would hold her close again, and to be honest, as angry as she was, she wasn't entirely in opposition of the idea. Maybe then he'd learn to appreciate her for what she was. "I haven't had the pleasure of living anywhere but here since I stepped foot on these isles."