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

IMPAZIENZA

Jezibelle was missing.

There had been no trace of her bay sister in the Falls, or the Meadow, or even the Commons when she ghosted through it the other night. Each shore smelled only of the ocean, or of unfamiliar horses on their way to or from the Crossing. She could not have simply disappeared, Impa reasoned on her return to the Peak, but it made her gut tight to think of where her sister might have gone voluntarily. And as she passed the Lagoon, walking the edge of its borders with reluctance in each heavy step, she found her sister’s scent.

The whole point of commanding Balthazar to stay was to make Jezibelle happy, but that was the night her sister had walked away. Impa wondered if she had misread the tension between the two horses. Maybe Jezi had known that one miserable equine was more than enough for the mountain, and she took herself away to avoid dampening everyone’s spirits. This was the dubious thought that Impa clung to with hope as she climbed the mountain and headed for the flat, grassy area so favored by most of the herd. The sun on her back warmed her, as did the exertion from ascending the Peak, and by the time Impa reached the common field sweat patched her black withers and white hips. Even though she would not return to the mingling areas immediately after having been gone from the Peak for a handful of days, she longed to head straight back down the mountain to dip herself in the pool at the base of the Falls.

It was mostly empty today, covered only in sunlight that illuminated the green-gold grass and the mare who stood by herself, starkly black against her surroundings. The prospect of a new arrival was the only thing that pulled the blanketed mare’s thoughts away from her sister. Impa made her way toward the lone horse, recognizing her only as someone she had yet to greet, and responded to the soft call still fading from the air with a loud whicker. “Heyla!” Impa called as she jogged over, coming to a slow stop. The draft mare extended her nose toward the other, pleased to see another tall and stocky mare atop the mountain. She did not smell like a newcomer, someone fresh out of the ocean or come straight from the Meadow or Falls, and Impa wondered how long she’d been at the Peak. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Impazienza,” she said, and glanced to her right to scan the empty area with her good eye. “Has everyone gone to the stream, do you think? I know there’s shade there. I hate summer,” she grumbled, then flashed a grin at the other mare. “If it snowed year ‘round, I’d be the happiest mare on the islands.”

17’3 BLACK BLANKET DRAFT MUTT MARE


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