Shifting his weight upon thick legs, a black Sabino stallion blinked his dark blue gaze. Muscles ticked in his jaw and his ears tucked tight to his head. Curiosity rose against his breast, threatening to cover his heart in its inky film. He needed to be doing something, but the prime aged stallion was unsure. Still new to the islands and the lagoon, he hadn't traveled much. He learned this big and the sight of his brothers, but nothing else. It was as if this place remained silent a lot, which didn't tickle his fancy.


Rolling his eyes with a huff, Enigma moved. His tall frame pushed against the hanging morning glory and the moss tendrils from the branches above. His mane snagged against protruding sticks and blackberry thorns, but everything just buffed out. His frame was more like his son than even his counterpart that made the black wraith, but even now the lagoon stallion had not the faintest idea where his wayward son lived. Their meeting was overdue, but for now he needed to set roots and build himself a backing. As a new member of the lagoon however in a sense, Enigma knew better.


Pushing through reeds and mud, the draft mutt let everything touch him. His skin trembled, aching in a good way as cuts began to line his sides from his straightforward movements. He liked the rough textures, the nicks of pain. They caused a smile to line his face, twisting it to be a perfect match in shape to his son. For now no one knew he was the hellhounds father, but that may change in the future as he continued forward.