An interesting turn of events. It was clear by the grullo colt's reaction, that he did not care for the term boy though why it should matter flew right above Rougaru's head like the brightly colored parrots that dotted the treetops above. Where he was from, the term was a simple one that meant the son of, but apparently to Fritjof, it meant more. Interesting.... just like Xiomara herself.

An amused grin tugs the corners of his lips upwards in reply. No doubt the wolf would have offered a snarky remark or remind him that regardless of his age, he would forever be a boy in the eyes of the Paradise wolf. But Monster beat him to the punch. It was becoming her style as of late and he had to admit, he was learning to quite enjoy it.

As her fashion, she stomps her foot in his direction and snakes her head forward to nip his shoulder. A mischievous glance is tossed towards her as she sidestepped from behind him. The years of warring with stallions and plenty of love bites at Monster's digression had left his shoulders riddled with scars covered in white hairs. Age had begun to set into him, a reminder each morning that the years of his prime were beginning to wane. It would not be long before he too was seeking the same fate he had given to Warsaw. However he was far from decrepit yet.

An ear flickers sideways at Monster's words, noting her carefully worded response to his rather brash statement. This was Xiomara's son no doubt. The thought brought a warm smile to his lips in memory. He missed having the bald faced mare as his neighbor. Perhaps one day fate would see them in each other's company again. Piercing green gaze returns to the young stallion, a single brow raised in question, "My darling queen proposes a good question, son of Xiomara." he muses, cocking a single hind hoof as ease begins to set in. Cream and caramel colored tail flicks idly back and forth against his broad flanks as he continues, his large head inclined curiously. "What prompted your mother to leave anyway? I thought she was content with her band of misfits." it was a jive he had offered Xiomara once or twice before, just to see the fire alight in her brilliant eyes. He knew her herd was not so different from his own, but her contentment with the stallion Angel had always confused and irritated him, especially since she seemed immune to his own advances.