Garmr had settled in the trees as if he were one of them. Simply watching the seasons change around him, and the faces shift as they came and went, without swaying from his place. The Islands, the Lagoon, had become complacent again and the stallion was bothered by it. The need for something violent still curled like venom within his veins, but he had not found anything to satisfy it. He wanted to sink his blunt teeth into flesh, to taste the copper liquid wash across his tongue and his large hooves slam against muscle and break bone.


Movement caught the stallion’s green gaze, and it paused his train of thought as he watched the pale figure move through the trees. Or rather, it seemed she lumbered. Her wide form is not quite as graceful as before. How had she not spat out the child yet? With twitch of his lip that appeared mostly like a sneer, the stallion decided to follow after Dior.


When the stallion paused along the tree line, he watched as she lowered herself into the cool water. Her robust figure practically flopping into the waves. How did she plan to get up quickly should a threat arrive? Not that Garmr had seen wolves, or the Peak, in quite some time. With a narrowing of his eyes, the stallion stalked out of his watchful place in the shadows until he splashed into the water next to her. “Don’t tell me you plan to drown the child before he even has a chance to stand?” he said in greeting. “And I am the one called monster.”