Rougaru would never forget the first moment that he laid eyes upon his precious painted viper. Despite the other brightly colored mares that roamed the commons that day, she had been the one to stand out from them all. She had been a challenge, a creature not easily impressed by the bulge of his muscles or the stories his scars told. She was quick with her tongue to lash out at him with hoof and word and the beast adored it. She had not given herself to him willingly, but made him battle and work for each inch she got with him. She saw the wolf in him and welcomed it with her coiled embrace.

It had not suprised him when she avoided him the past season. While he had missed the sensual dance that usually accompanied their union, he had not missed the struggle that she went through birthing Loupgaru. Truth be told, even he was a bit overwhelmed with his rambunctious son. Not only was Loupgaru his usual shadow, but up until recently, Drogon too was more than happy to tag along on his border patrols or engage the large stallion in a friendly romp through the trees. A task that though he put on the worn out front, delighted the stallion to no end. He loved his foals whether they were of his blood or not.

Monster turns to him now, a snarky smile teasing the corners of her lips upward as she remarked about his skills going sour. With a feigned scowl though even his own lips turned upwards in the beginnings of a grin. Leave it to her to keep him on his toes and hit him where it hurt the worse. Her hip bumps against his broad chest and the beast utters a pleasant growl. Yellow green eyes gleam in the dappled sunlight as he watches her lithe form whirl around to press her head into the concave of his breast. A murmur of pleasure rolls off his tongue as her blunt teeth pinch the thick flesh of his shoulder. He had forgotten how comfortable it was, feeling her body pressed against his own. "I am not old and decrepit yet little viper." he teases tugging at a straying strand of her alabaster mane. Seeing her now, her multifaceted gaze meeting his own, brought anew the worry that gnawed at his soul like the wolf's teeth upon an old bone.

"I worry for Medusa..." he begins, his mahogany shoulder's sagging as he closes the space between them to allow his great head to rest across the gentle slope of her strong back. "Bjorn's win over Warsaw leaves me with more questions than answers. I went there to check on her.... but I could not find her scent...." he continues, his voice trailing as his fierce emerald gaze drifts towards the horizon where, behind the veil of thick palms and dense jungle, he knew that Tinuvel rose above the blue expanse of ocean. "She is so much like you... like us... but I had thought she might return home... " he continues tilting his great head to inhale a deep breath of her skin. "Am I over thinking things?" he asks, his tones quiet. He missed his daughter, and like all his foals he worried for her safety but he knew that he would have to give her the freedom she needed to make her own choices. She was never a filly to be coddled but still.... he should know she was safe shouldn't he? Did that open her up to look weak if her parents came searching for her?

He draws his head back reluctantly, his jaws parting to rake his own blunt teeth over her patchwork rump. "What do you think... my queen of the jungle?" he teases, long creamy caramel tail flicking idly against his thick legs, itching for a direction to focus his attention.