The dark-colored stallion peered from his perch atop the last solid slope of the Badlands into the first dregs of the Dunes. Keenly, crimson optics swept over cactus, rock, and sand, searching for any of his wayward brood. The Friesian-molded male had too often of late scented his daughter Carrhae near and even across the border with this territory. While it made him seethe to have the girl disobey him, Carthage had not yet decided to how to deal with the situation. Punishment might drive her further across into the enemy's land for all who weren't allied with them on this island were deemed as such.
Seeing what the foolhardy filly was up to hadn't been the sole reason for his presence though. No, Carthage wanted to get a look at any Dunes residents, maybe even the lead. It would be a bonus if he spied the reason for Carrhage's distraction. Breath heaved his sides as a seawind battered the blood-dark stallion. Along with the heavy wind came the dark clouds of a promising storm. Dark ears flicked at the thought of Carrhae getting caught in this if she snuck off again and the debate of whether it would be bad or teach her the error of her ways.
Carrhae's scent, or what was left of it, seemedto almost dissipate in the face of the oncoming precipitation. Undaunted, Carthage pushed forward into the lower slopes the formed a portion of the grey area between territories. He slung his great head low to the rocky terrain beneath him, nostrils puffing air as his nose busied itself deciphering what scents were there. Red-hued eyes narrowed upon detecting the fresher scent of another male on the breeze and set to scanning the landscape with a heavy gaze. . . until he spied the large shadow cresting a dune not far off from the borderlands.
He decided to remain where he was, silent and unmoving, to see what the other might decide to do with him so close to the border.