"FREY!" The single syllable ripped itself free of Rehoboam's mouth and rang out across the Lagoon with every bit of fury the painted stallion could put into it.

For most of his stay in the Lagoon, Rehoboam had considered his position as Marauder as a sort of trial run, a test of some kind, a semi-permanent state of trial. This in-between state prevented him from doing too much without seeking the approval of Rade or Tyr, and kept him from pursuing the sort of future that he hoped the Lagoon would eventually find.

But in this, he would not wait for anyone else's permission.

Rehoboam had kept his silence the first time he'd caught wind of his sister's arrival on the Crossing, had even bit his tongue (nearly in half, in fact) when her scent began flirting with the borders of the Lagoon. But now something in the scent trails she left behind had changed, and he hated knowing what it meant. It was like finding a used pregnancy test in your sister's bathroom, and knowing that not only was she pregnant, but she had done it with someone. It made him furious, both that it had happened, and that he had to know.

Not only that a Lagoonie had managed to charm his sister (it didn't matter that he, also, was a Lagoonie), but this same idiot colt was attempting to keep his precious little sister here among the men instead of doing right by her and finding her a proper home. Rehoboam loved all of his sisters, but Bellona was special, precious, protected.

If his father would have killed him for becoming a Lagoonie in the first place (and Reh knew that he would, someday), then he would resurrect and dissect him if he also found out Rehoboam had allowed Bellona to live here with him.

And yet... it wasn't Bellona he called for.

And that was not only because she was deaf. In fact, it had very little to do with that and a lot more to do with the fact that the odds of her listening to him were slim to none. But Frey? Rehoboam was technically Frey's superior. He had power - limited though it may be - to make the General's upstart son's life hell.

And he would, if the idiot didn't fix this.

Rehoboam stood resolutely in a fairly solid part of the Lagoon, wanting to give himself the best possible view of the surroundings. In truth, Rehoboam didn't know the boy well enough to know how he would react to Rehoboam's summons, especially considering that the painted stallion did not currently possess enough self-control to approach this calmly. Not when it came to his baby sister. Pinning his ears once more, he called again, and began to pace in small, tight circles.