The silver haired beast had to admit, finally beating back his sibling felt delicious.

Despite the ache in his foreleg, the mahogany and white painted stud prances with high steps towards the Inlet, nudging along his prize with occasional nips here and there. He did not immediately expect retribution from ol’ blackie boy, but nonetheless, he was not about to hang around in case there was.

The black painted girl had caught his eye the moment he snuck across the Bay borders. His first visit there had been purely intellectual purposes, learning just what sort of herd and the numbers that camped there. The faintly familiar scent of Fell had come later, but that did not mean the young wolf was going to turn tail and slink home for family ties. Blood isn't always thicker than water and all. Úna had caught his eye by happenstance. Golden eyes watched from afar that day as she danced gracefully across the snow laden landscape after a bright cerulean feathered bird. Her spirit had been intoxicating and even before meeting, Loupgaru knew that she would become one of the ones he would claim as his own. ’MINE’ the wolfish growl hangs in his throat. That day, Fell had managed to beat him back. The black stallion tightened the thorns guarding his borders but even that did not deter the silver tobiano dragga. He had his eyes set on a prize and regardless of the obstacles he would attain it. Surely it must be of some value since the blackie stallion worked so hard to protect it, right?

Only when they manage to cross the border back into the Inlet does the beast relent his constant pestering. Small fluted ears perk forward as his thickly muscled neck arches, dropping his large head even with his body. Exhaling a sharp snort, he draws a small, prowling circle around his painted prize. Golden yellow eyes scour her body, admiring the lithe curves of muscle and sharp contours of her black and white pelt. She would do. A smug grin tugs at the corner’s of his ashen lips as the scarred brute pauses, lifting his head proudly once more, ”Mine.” he commands, stomping a single hoof onto the thick carpet of pine straw underfoot. His eyes glitter as he jerks his head towards his shoulder, ”Loupgaru.”