The Lost Islands
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Desert

Leaders: Nyimara, Asmodeus, Quinn

Stallions: None

Mares: Kara, Kohelet, Rhaynira, Syrax

Foals: Cahyr

Use caution when the wolf comes knocking;
Posted on October 30, 2022 at 03:04:17 AM by Rougaru



The desert. A wasteland in the eyes of many that had not yet learned its secrets. Salem was a harsh island that suffered no fools. Adequate food and water could be hard to find and even the most comfortable found themselves traveling for days to reach fresh water in the summer and fall months. Some (Vanya among them) might have considered the chocolate stallion to be insane to abandon Atlantis and its fruitful herd lands for a place like this. It was as close to polar opposites as the old wolf could manage. Yet that is just what he had wanted.

Gone were the ghosts that weighed down his consciousness. Gone were the memories and dreams of mates long loved and lost. Like hoofprints in the sand, the tides of Salem scored them from his mind. With the fiery Vanya nipping at his heels and hissing in his ears, Rougaru found that the Desert healed him in more ways than one. Muscles and bones that had ached with each early morning rise in Paradise seemed to have vanished. The weight he had long carried on his shoulders disappeared and instead made way once more for lean muscles beneath the healthy sheen of his chocolate skin. The wolf felt reborn in a sense, free of the worries and strains that had burdened him before and ready instead to make his mark on Salem a memorable one. He would gather his strength and find his revenge at last against Solomon.

Sunlight glistened off a distant dune, drawing his attention away from the grasping thoughts of far away lands. His broad head rises, focusing upon the distant silhouette. Small, dark ears perk forward amid the wind knotted tangle of his cream and caramel mane. Emerald eyes blink against the onslaught of dust and sunlight as paper thin nostrils flare to inhale the arid desert winds.

Calypso. His pearl.

Suddenly there is a rise of emotions that catch both he and the wolf off guard. It was not that long ago that he had watched the pale faced mare flee from him at the side of his enemy merely because he exercised his god granted rights as a stallion. She had stared at him in horror as he offered nonchalant answers to questions that set the hairs along her spine on end. Anew the memory rises of the fear and shock that shown in her pale blue green eyes. It had nearly fractured him then. She saw the beast and balked away from it and straight into the arms of an enemy.

He approaches her slowly now, using the same calm, calculated steps he used when passing through the flighty herd of antelope that called the desert home. Ash dusted nostrils quiver as an audible nicker echoes from his lungs. Calypso. He would know the beauty anywhere and never imagined in his wildest dreams that she would return to his doorstep unattended. Whether intentional or not, she ignores him. Instead of approaching, she progresses forward, her damp hooves leaving easy to follow impressions on the sandy soil. The beast growls deep within, furious at her nonchalant ignorance to his borders as much as her ignorance of him. Suddenly their history is refreshed and it is Jabari the wolf sees now instead of the petite island seductress.

Mahogany ears disappear beneath the thick mantle of his mane as all concern for her fragile mentality goes away. Agitation renews itself as he follows, more curious now than intent on enforcing his boundaries. It isn't until she draws nearer to the small oasis that he begins to understand. Thirst. Thirst had a way of driving even the most hardy of horses on Salem across borders for a meager sip of sweet water. For this he pauses, and watches from the distance as she approaches the waters edge and quenches her thirst. Golden eyes gleam behind emerald ones as he and the beast take advantage of the distance to once more drink her in. She had been young when they first met, barely free of foalhood and filled with glorious fantasies that he could never bring to life. As he watches her now, he can see the changes he had never noticed before. Age and wisdom gleam in the fine lines of her beautiful face. Motherhood has filled out the curve of her golden hips, proof that she had borne children successfully into this world. Mirella. The thought of their daughter rises and he wonders not for the first time, where on the islands or beyond Calypso might have stashed her.

Her thirst subsided, she lifts her head and scans the reeds and grasses that grew in abundance beneath the shelter of the joshua trees shadows. He all but expects her to flee like the fleet gazelle back towards the dunes or even the ocean for safety. And yet, as he watches from the distant hillside, she remains. Casually, she draws away from the water’s edge and begins to gaze on the dry grass tops, completely at home in a land that few dared. Calypso…. She was not his calypso anymore.

Nonetheless, the sight of her so close and the memory of her silken skin beneath the hungry touch of his lips is enough to force him to close the distance between them with purposeful strides. Dark ears stand at attention as his muscular neck curls proudly, lifting his broad head high with authority. Ignoring the smirking beast, and the desire to curl a suave grin across his lips, the chocolate stallion instead settles for a face of indifference as he approaches her. ”Not many dare to cross my borders uninvited. At least not many that make it out unscathed.” he murmurs, blinking against the bright sunlight to tilt his head towards her in typical boyish fashion. ”Calypso…” he breathes, resisting the urge to let her name linger on his lips like a hungry prayer. ”What makes you believe you should be free to do so?” he asks, watching her reaction.




Rougaru
silver bay | stallion | 17yrs | 16.3 hh | mutt


photo by vantid @ tumblr



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