Gaucho had warned his warriors to be on the look-out for Thranduil after Ranjiri's report, yet nothing had come of it. Likely his actions had been rash, and while he didn't sound the bells of alarm, perhaps it had not been worth it to advise his warriors to do anything at all. The Heart Caves, while bordering his home, were not his to control. So what if Thranduil had lingered there? Shouldn't he be allowed to do so? And his confrontation with Ranjiri? The mare had said that her judgement might have been clouded by emotions. Her Father had just been found dead in the Basin. There was no shortage of reasons why she might have been more sensitive than usual.

And yet ...

No, Gaucho decided sternly. Perhaps his reasons for mistrusting the golden were not justified in a way that he could articulate, but nevertheless his unease rattled unhappily in his bones. It was better to defend against the wind, than to be destroyed by the storm.

And so, when one of his warriors alerted him to Thranduil's presence upon his borders, Gaucho was glad for his caution.

On wings of flame and fire the burning dun flew. As soon as he departed the sandy shores of the Throat he was assaulted by the chill of Frostfall. Cold sprays from the ocean rose up, disrupting the warmer thermals that normally made gliding so easy. His wings were forced to beat more than normal, but the flood of adrenaline pumping through his system made the movements easy and fluid.

In his antlers Mara slid forwards. Although the chill made her body feel sluggish and hard, she too felt the excitement and adrenaline that pulsed through her bonded. She could feel his lingering doubts, and his overwhelming desire to simply bathe the golden in a wall of fire - to chase him away without even letting him utter a single word. But such passions, she knew, he would smother if Thranduil was here to meet with the Sultan, rather than to settle personal scores.

Gaucho's blackened hooves stretched down towards the earth, landing with an odd grace for a creature of his size. Rather than folding his fiery appendages against his flanks, he allowed them to remain open, held gloriously and brightly out from his shoulders. The Wildfire's stormy gaze settled undaunted upon Thranduil, unwavering even as Vorsa landed cheerfully in his antlers.

"Gaucho assume you not here by mistake." He offered, his voice nearly toneless.