Falls

The wolf watches.

Golden eyes glitter beneath the green hues that stared out beyond the veil of brittle leaves and shadow. Small dark ears perk amid the tangle of wind-swept mane that tumbles haphazardly down the thickly muscled arch of his neck. Melinoe. The starry night mare. The one who got away.

He had not missed her scent as he drifting beyond the meadows and falls, reminiscing on years past and decisions made. He had errored in a great number of ways, but he was the wolf and what was natural to the beast was not always considered the finest judgement to mares and stallions who preferred their opinions heard and greeted with open minds. The wolf saw only right and wrong, black and white, truth and lie. It lived in feral reality in which the core desires for procreation and strengthening of the pack reigned supreme. It was his intention to become both revered and feared throughout the islands. Whispered murmurs of his name was not enough, not to this stallion.

Melinoe had wanted nothing to do with him once Cain made his appearance. The damned black and white stallion with his chivalrous mannerism had quickly soiled whatever opinion of him that she might have made far before any words broke from his lips. Grant it, the wolf did not help the matter by roaring to life with claiming nips and commanding voices. The wolf reasoned that from the safety of the jungle, all could be mended and made well, but Cain saw to that. Cain stole her no sooner than she had first placed her hooves in the sand of Atlantis and thus built higher walls of hatred between them. Often he wondered what had become of the black and white mare with her startling eyes of silver blue. His raid into the desert found his watchful eyes searching for her, but never finding the pretty Melinoe. Chelle had been Cain’s repercussion for interfering in Paradise’s affairs, but even Rougaru knew that it would not be the last he saw of the stallion, even if his absence as of late had been noted.

However Cain is not his focus on this day.

Cautious as a hunting puntar he follows, watching as the black and white mare moves with caution, her searching eyes moving this way and that, pausing here and there to listen for footfall. An almost sadistic smile curved across his ash dusted lips as he imagined that she was searching for him, that their previous encounter had really etched itself so firmly into her mind that she worried he might be near. The roar of falling water strengthens as she draws nearer to the falls, masking the sound of his hooves upon leaf litter. Multifaceted eyes of emerald hue watch with fascination as she glances around her one final time before slipping free of the shadows and releasing the caution that held her firmly in its grasp like a herla separated from its herd. Though he is too far to hear the whisper of her words above the roar of the waters, he does not miss the exhilaration that strums strong within his breast. Melinoe had returned, and Cain was nowhere near to interfere with this perfect moment.

Pink tongue slides across darkened lips once as the dark mahogany stallion draws himself from the shadows with a deep throated chuckle. Ears pitch forward as Rougaru gives his proud head a toss, his forelegs stepping high as muscles tense beneath his summer sleek frame. The wolf does not dare to close the entire distance between them for fear of sending her running headlong into the nearest stand of trees. Instead, he comes to a halt a respectful distance between them, enough that her cold gaze might stare down into the warmth of his own, but not enough that he could not race after her should she choose to flee. A single lobe tilts sideways as the stallion cocks his head towards her. ”Melinoe….” he murmurs, letting the syllables of her name play upon his tongue. Pale lashes blink slowly over his searching eyes as he dips his head ever so slightly, doing his best to keep his greeting warm and friendly. At least for now.

”Here I was thinking the seas had swallowed you up. Good to see the islands spit you out again little starling.” he coos taking a single step towards her. Thickly coiled neck arches as the stallion extends his muzzle towards hers in invitation, gold and green eyes glittering against the bright sunlight expectantly. Would she take his bait and run? Or was she brave enough to face the wolf head on. The game of cat and mouse was just beginning, and the wolf could not wait to play it.