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 May 26, 2014 at 00:01:54 AM by impazienza

IMPAZIENZA

The mare who stood on Impa’s mountain (yes, it was hers now, not Anath’s or any other mare’s, and she would defend her right to it until she died— she deserved the Peak and deserved to lead the mares who called it home with her, given all the bullshit she had suffered to get to where she was today, and she’d lob a hearty fuck you to any of the sparsely-present mares who tried to challenge that) was short but widely built, thick-legged and wearing a collection of scars that were impressive only because the mare was still walking upright.

Her brother’s scars were all inflicted by other horses, but the mare who bellowed clearly had a life-story filled with a different kind of violence. All this Impa took in as she strode toward the newcomer, her wide hooves kicking up snow with each step and dusting her thickly feathered legs with white. She was tired today, having spent the morning trying without success to get Jezibelle to talk to her like a reasonable equine, and she was in no mood for bullshit. This new mare, a bay one with a white face and a small limp, was either horrendously stupid for having gotten into a violent situation in the first place or incredibly smart for having escaped it with little more than flesh wounds. The blanketed mare was eager to gauge the depth of the other mare’s intelligence based on conversation. It lifted her mood a bit so that when she halted before the stranger and spoke, she could do so without any lingering irritation in her voice.

“Welcome to the Peak,” she said, and while her voice was not as cold as it had been recently it was not particularly warm, either. “I am Impazienza, Prime Minister of this mountain. Have you come to call this herd home?” The mare’s bellow hadn’t seemed to be directed at anyone in particular, and Impa was used to newcomers announcing themselves (and then disappearing, as if the arduous climb had been too much to repeat). The half-blind mare angled her head slightly to the left to bring the mare more fully into view and exhaled softly, strangely patient as she waited for a reply.

17’3 BLACK BLANKET DRAFT MUTT MARE


html made with love for uforia by shiva 2014


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