Peak |
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The Prime MinisterKhar'pern |
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The CodebreakerAshteroth |
The GeneralMarceline |
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The Companions |
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The ThinkersNaydraTitan |
The PoliticiansAraratAxelle Hollis Mae Nashira Serenity |
The WarriorsClarityKaeja Lysimache Starling |
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The TrinketsBelovedCato Cullen Güneşlenmek Isengrim Jigsaw Kazimir Octavius Starscream Yıldırım |
PRIME MINISTER'S DECREE"None." - Leader |
The OffspringDiccon (Cicada x Khar'pern) |
Rules• The Vulcan Peak is where homeless mares come to live as a sisterhood. Stallions may not live here except as captives or companions for the Leaders. • Warriors keep mainly to fighting, Thinkers keep mainly to raiding, and Politicians may do both, neither, or act as diplomats. Members may issue their own battles and raids, but should generally consult the General, Codebreaker or Prime Minister for permission. • All major decisions are determined by vote, but the Prime Minister maintains order within the Peak and has the final say. • Elections for leadership positions will be held every TLI summer, provided the qualifying criteria are met. • You can find detailed information about how the Peak works on the Rules page. |
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Posted on November 19, 2012 at 03:59:41 PM by ABSTRACT
 When at long last the gray mare had come up beside the grulla, her head tossed against the breeze in the summer heat, the tufts of color around her barrel stained a darker hue by sweat, she was surprised by the dun’s quick turn-around; almost startled by it actually. Abstract snorted, her large smoky nostrils hollowing out to expose the rosy red of their depths. Her ears twitched, undecided as to whether they should lift or not. She bobbed her chin momentarily, the burning bright eyes scanning the little mare who now addressed her with a sanguine humor. Abby took notice of the rough patches splotched across the grulla, how she too had pieces of a heavier coat still stuck to her frame. Along with her uneven pelt, Abstract notice the scratches on the dun’s shoulder, which appeared relatively fresh. Abby wondered if this mare had fought her way to the peak, perhaps had a scrap with a cougar, or another horse who might’ve not been so keen on the idea of the grulla’s migration. Abstract spent a great deal of time studying the little mare before she gave in to a response. Her head still held high above her angled withers, ears beginning to lift from the mess of black tresses. Her face however still seemed pinched by a degree of discomfort and though she brazened it well, “Abstract...” she gave her name in full, no one had called her Abby in a long time. Lowering her head along a collected crest line, Abby backed up a step to allow a more comfortable space between them before continuing, “I arrived here no more than a month ago, but it appears very much a ghost town,” the small talk did not come as naturally as her company’s, but Abby tried. She was slowly beginning to relax her muscles and keep herself on a steady train of thought. Though mentioning that the Peak felt much like a ghost-town was a solid truth even the gray did not want to hear. She had come here hoping to find something, very much anything really, and in her stay Mouse was only the second horse she’d come across in all of the Islands. Even her original greeter, Vashti, had only been here but a season or two. Abstract wasn’t sure whether this place, despite its harsh walls and gorgeous scenery, was somewhere she wanted to stay. She was use to being alone, better off for it as she constantly told herself, but she was a horse, a social creature which deep down yearned like no other for a form of trustworthy company. This empty ink cartridge pained her. GRAYING [AA Ee nSb Gg] : MARE : 15.1HH : FOUR YEARS : MUTT
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