Rougaru finds himself surprised to hear the call of Solomon ringing over the usual chattering of loud voiced parrots and shrieking monkeys that made the upper canopy of the trees active with life. For a moment, the silver bay stallion felt his skin prickling with displeasure and anger. Intruder.

Tension builds beneath his skin as thick legs navigate the well worn jungle path with the quick haste of a stallion with something real to protect. Small dark ears bury themselves beneath the thick mantle of cream and caramel colored tresses. The call was not a summons to battle or a challenge for mare or land, but he had not exactly been expecting company.

As was her custom, Rougaru catches the familiar scent of Monster and though he held no doubt in her ability to take care of herself, the urgency of his pace quickens to a ground eating jog. Monster had proven herself over and over again that she could defend herself and the herd should the need arise, but Rougaru was too proud and too obsessed to risk that. Her spirit and fire, the excitement that had captured him would no doubt catch the wandering eye of a stranger too.

Broad shoulders shove through the thick tangle of vines as Rougaru steps free of the shadowed jungle and for the first time, his multifaceted eyes find the form of Solomon. Dark ears snap forward as narrowed brows lift suddenly in confusion. Solomon. He had almost forgotten about the Cove stallion. Though Warsaw had been the one to introduce and encourage the alliance, Rougaru had been content to trust the judgement of the stallion he considered a brother. However, Solomon was not. Solomon hid himself away behind his borders with his throng of mares and Rougaru was content with that. A silent ally could be a good ally. It was considered an agreement to avoid each other’s lands and so far it had worked out perfectly, even after Warsaw’s death. Vaguely he recalled seeing the stallion at Warsaw’s deathbed, but it had been a mere passing glance not wasted on second glances. They both had been busy with their own herds and the understanding seemed to remain. However, the painted stallion shuffling in such a disheveled fashion on his doorstep is enough to draw the curiosity from his bones.

”Solomon?” the name is a question on his tongue as cautiously he closes the distance between himself and his painted viper. Muscular neck stretches out to bump Monster’s flank and nip Alpha affectionately before shifting his gaze to his queen. ”This is Solomon of the Tinvel Cove my darling viper. An ally… or was when Warsaw still lived. Has that changed?” he asks now, turning his fierce eyes to the tall stallion expectantly.