It was brewing in the stallion; glinting in his green eyes. The thunder before the raging storm. Violence swirled within his mind; his body tense, as his skin shivers as if it crawled across his very flesh. Garmr despited Autumn. Mares made the very air poisonous to breath, and made his brothers fall victim to stupidity. Though their hormones raged, and caused them to bring chaos to the Islands as Garmr desired; he didn't like the aftermath that came with Spring. The coppery stench of fresh foals with their too high pitched squeals and all too happy demeanors. He wanted to tasted their delicate flesh between his teeth and silence the joyous sounds.


Agitation roiled through the stallion as he paced through the Lagoon. His ears laced back and his lips pulled into a sneer as if he could envision the act of latching on to his next victim. And as if summoning him to do so (again) Garmr spied Ainaz up ahead. She walked with purpose; her head high and chin up as if she held the importance of his title and not that of a trinket.


Out of all the times she could have done this, why did she have to choose now?


Garmr prowled after her, staying just far enough behind he wouldn't raise suspicion, but that he wouldn't lose her. He teeth clacked together, the only way he knew out to let his pent up aggression out without rushing ahead to close his blunt teeth on her delicate skin and bloody her as he had done before. Could she survive his wraith a second time? Could he stop a second time?


Her scent lead him to the sea in the direction of Salem, and Garmr had no problem following after her. But he was surprised she still lingered nearby (but was beginning to walk off) when he drug himself ashore, almost instantly hating the bright light that made him squint and the heat that bore down upon his broad back.


"Ainaz..." he called, only taking a few steps inland from the lapping waves before stopping. Traipsing through the deep sand and it clumping in his thick leg feathers was not appealing. As if the brutal sun was any better.


She's going to run he thought as he eyed the open desert beyond where he could never keep up. Could never lay claim to her flesh again should she not choose it. Freedom lay ahead; open and willing. All she had to do was take it.


"This isn't the time...." he started, trying to curb his tongue though he wasn't sure why. Could she not tell the fire that burned in him, that he could barely contain? The dangerous threat in his eyes, or the heat that seemed to radiate within? The swim had done little to nothing to cool the turbulence of the season within the beast that wanted to react in such a frenzy that he wasn't sure how to sate.