Use caution when the Wolf comes aknockin; Posted on November 3, 2020 at 09:00:58 PM by Rougaru
Rougaru knew that he was perhaps playing with fire. Faolain had once tested his own boundaries, was it wrong to retaliate in his own way? The wolf in him jumped with joy, its yellow gold eyes gleamed in the dappled sunlight that filtered in through the trees above. It had been a passing whisper, a notion of quiet amusement that tickled his mind like the beginnings of a flame on brittle branches. The wolf saw the opportunity for what it was… an opportunity.
There had once been a part of him that imagined Faolain and her counterpart would soon fade into the shadows of the jungle. Once, he imagined that he might come upon their remains forgotten among the tangled web of vines and dense flower laden branches. Although beautiful, the jungle of Atlantis held its own deadly secrets that even the most foolish mare was quick to teach her foals lest they too find themselves victim to the sharp claws of a jungle cat or venomous snake. Rougaru had hoped that perhaps like the morning mists, the Ridge herd would disappear and leave him with yet another step closer to becoming lord of the island.
So far, he and the wolf had been slacking on that front. His visits to Xiomara had for the most part proved to be ineffective in securing himself the island throne. When Bjorn had been leader of the Ridge, the stallion had bowed willingly in exchange for Nyimara. While Rougaru was still not exactly thrilled with the outcome of that match or the benefits it was to provide him, whats done was done and now neither hide nor hair remained of Nyimara on Atlantis and if his keen senses were correct, Bjorn had return defeated to hide out on the Shores with Xiomara. How strangely fitting it was, two leaders defeated by Warsaw, banding together with their misfits in peace along the shores. It was not the same close knit fierce pack like his own but it seemed to work for the bald faced mare so who was he to condemn her.
However unlike Xiomara, Faolain was a bit of a different creature altogether. She tested the waters of the pack by crossing his borders and daring to challenge him for his daughter Havelle (for he would never see the girl as Liland’s daughter). She had met his overbearing approach with unphased grace and poise, even daring to refuse his offer of alliance at its first offer. She was a mystery to him and well, the wolf enjoyed the unknown to say the least.
He had invested himself in this challenge, the pros far outweighing the cons in his eye’s mind. Though it was not as favorable to the stallion as the games of pursuit and old fashioned persuasion, the results were far more effective. Instead of having to meet on common ground in a way that might better benefit not just himself but the ridge as well, in this manner he can both secure his own allegiance through blood ties but also insure that his own seed is spread through the kingdoms. Though he loved all his children dearly, that itself was no secret, very few ventured farther than Paradise’s borders. So far, only Havelle, Medusa and Nattergal had ventured farther than a day’s travel. While he was not complaining, it was not exactly taking the islands by storm as he had hoped for.
By sheer luck he managed to best Faolain in battle, in the years since first she laid her claim upon the Ridge, her experience had strengthened and he was not ashamed to say that she even managed to lay a few well aimed blows on his already battle scarred body. Today more than yesterday, the remnants of their battle can be felt in the stiff roll of his shoulders and the slight limp still gave him problems as he crossed the uneven ground.
However it was the unfamiliar scent of the Ridge that draws him towards the shared border today. He half expected Faolain to show herself, to toy with the prospects of bartering for a more favorable counter-offer to his proposed challenge but his nostrils were still fresh filled with her scent to know that it is not her who waits for him. Broad shoulders push through the dense jungle undergrowth to bring him to a halt before the unfamiliar mare.
For a moment he remains silent, deep multi-faceted eyes of green traveling over the curves and contours of the silver bay mare’s white splattered hide. She was a pretty vision, surrounded by the brightly colored flowers of Paradise, but it was her bright blue eyes that drew his gaze. Like winter snow amid the fires of summer they stood out against the pale colored hairs that lined her face. She stood there, the steady rise and fall of her chest the only signs of life beneath. A single chocolate colored lobe flickers amid the cream and caramel colored tresses of his own mane. A single brow raises curiously as the wolfish smile spreads itself across his rugged features. ”I was expecting Faolain….” he begins, taking a step towards her, his thick skull dipping gently towards her in invitation, ”But I suppose the mystery queen will do as company as well. Are you here to beg for me to rescind my desired prize? “ he inquires, inclining his head ever so slightly towards her. She was a far difference from Faolain to say the least, where the obsidian mare was slender and long legged, this girl was built more similar to his own, with thickly scooped neck and broad shoulders. Her legs were neither short nor comparatively stocky but she did sport the slightest hints of feathers along her hocks. Her creamy silver white mane hung heavily along her shoulders in a very appealing manner and caused even the wolf to perk its ears with interest. There was something regal in the way she held herself, an air of respect and prestige that peaked his own interest. Thickly muscled neck arches as he extends his own whiskered lips towards her own, pausing a short distance to give her the choice to continue with the age-old greeting or withdraw should she so choose. ”I have seen and heard much of Faolain over the seasons… but the jungle has hidden you well.”