M A G N U S
WHAT little heat there was on Tinuvel had begun to die out. The cold breezes were beginning to blow back in and soon it would be freezing again. The spotted boy had quickly gotten used to the cold but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to feel the warmth of the sun’s rays every now and then. It was for this reason that he took a detour on his route back to the bay from Luthien, where he had reunited with his sister on the shores of the forest. He decided he was not ready to face the cold quite yet and began to follow the warm current that led to an island he could only assume was Atlantis. He’d been to Luthien and he lived on Tinuvel which only left Salem and Atlantis. Salem was supposedly wastelands so by process of elimination he could make an educated guess. That being said, it wouldn’t have been a surprise if that educated guess was wrong.

FOR a while, he just picked his way along the shores of the island. He did not feel like drawing the attention or wrath of whatever stallions held the territories so he kept to the outskirts, remaining low key. He had heard that there were other strange rock faces like the one Soljor had shown to Pilar and him last winter. He couldn’t make head nor tails of the markings but apparently they all linked up to tell some story or lead to something great. He was determined to find out what they meant but he’d have to find them first.

AS the spotted boy skirted around a scat pile that signified a stallion’s territory, a familiar scent caught within his nostrils; Pilar. All thoughts of the rock face and not being seen were abandoned and he was soon briskly trotting towards the ridge for which the land got its name, blue eyes keeping a look out for the familiar sight of two curved ears.

ONLY THE STRONG WILL SURVIVE