Isengrim had returned to the Lagoon. He had returned to his brothers. And the traitor who had once called himself their leader had left without a trace. Perhaps if the red dun had stuck around when things had started to get tough, Isengrim could have come to respect him. But turning tail and running the moment he had a better prospect had left a bad taste in Isengrim's mouth, and he was sure most, if not all, of the Lagoon could agree. The speckled stallion's captivity had been far from interesting, completely uneventful actually. It did, however, give him time to think about his situation. Things had changed since that day. Garmr was in charge now. And Garmr had actually come for him. Isengrim knew exactly where his loyalty was lying.

His brothers.

The muck clung to him, obscuring some of the pale of his coat, but his ice-pale eyes remained the same. The moon that stretched across the front of his face was unmarred by even a single speckle of dirt. The lagoon was brown and green and more brown. Maybe that's why the golden girl had appealed to him the first time. And it's why he noticed her now. Flattening his curled ears, the ears of his father, against the thick curl of his nape, Isengrim approached.

"You look a bit different," he says, his voice rough like the salted sea around them. "Didn't bring your tree?" His pale eyes flicked to her flank, remembering where he'd nipped at her. He remembers how she'd kicked at him, it had been refreshing, even if she'd been trapped. If that stupid stallion had come and ruined the fun and chased him into the sea, they could have gotten here sooner.

He shoves his nose forward, pressing into her space and blows a warm breath at her. Whether it was an attempt at politeness or a gesture to rile her up is anyone's guess. "Took you long enough," the corner of his lip pulls up in to a smirk, that might be charming if it wasn't for...his entire personality. He didn't know who brought her here, and truthfully he didn't care. In his head, he'd won.