The Lost Islands
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Peak

The Prime Minister

Khar'pern

The Codebreaker

Ashteroth

The General

Marceline

The Companions
None None None

The Thinkers

Naydra
Titan

The Politicians

Ararat
Axelle
Hollis
Mae
Nashira
Serenity

The Warriors

Clarity
Kaeja
Lysimache
Starling

The Trinkets

Beloved
Cato
Cullen
Güneşlenmek
Isengrim
Jigsaw
Kazimir
Octavius
Starscream
Yıldırım

PRIME MINISTER'S DECREE

"None." - Leader

The Offspring

Diccon (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.
YOU LEFT ME IN THE DARK
Posted on March 4, 2014 at 01:23:56 AM by impazienza

IMPAZIENZA
At first, there had been nothing but darkness and a bright point of red-hot light in the depths of it, but when Impa found no outlet for her rage, grief swamped her. It came in like the tide in the storm and washed over her head until she was drowning on dry land. At least she hadn’t been on the mountain anymore. Impa had gone to a shallow cave near an overhang where she had waited out a thunderstorm with a brilliant blue roan mare, and it was there in the cold shade that she had wept with as much ferocity as the rain. Impa felt sick by the time she was done, as well as sodden and old and stupid.

Most of all she felt angry, and that was an emotion she had begun to relish.

It was an active thing within her, lifting her legs as she returned to the Peak and moving her body with a fearsome power that she had never experienced before. For the first time in her life Impa felt complete, and maybe it was this cold and tangible rage that had been missing. How long had she waited for her sire’s apology, for some sign that he wished to reconcile and to make amends with her? Years of her life, wasted. Wasted on a stallion who’d earned so much hate from his son that it had been the death of him. Rurisk. Impa pinned her ears so tightly to her skull that they ached. She would find her brother, but later. Tonight she needed to recollect herself, to gather and store her rage so that it was not running rampant across her features and spilling so obviously out of her good eye.

Recalling herself to her position as figurehead of the Peak and the mares who resided on the mountainside, Impa shook out her mane and forced her ears up. She did not slow her vigorous pace until she was near the ledge that Anath had favored, a fact she had forgotten until she saw the pale champagne mare standing on it. Impa checked her pace, but only long enough to adjust her course. This mountain had been abandoned too many times by too many mares, and Impa was tired of everyone she knew fading out of her life like ghosts.

The black blanketed mare came to a stop on Anath’s left side so that she could stare her in the face. “Oh. You’re back,” she said, her words sharp as slate. Her ears were turned back but not flattened, her disapproval (in the former General’s disappearance, not her recent return) clear in her dark brown eye. Things had changed in the years the champagne mare had been away —maybe not much, or often, but enough that now things were different, and the mare who ruled over the mountain now had grown a whip for a tongue.

17’3 BLACK BLANKET DRAFT MUTT MARE
html made with love for uforia by shiva 2014


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