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, Macabre & Any

IMPAZIENZA
It’s hot.

Impa stood on one of the flatter areas of the Peak, a modest gold-grassed meadow interspersed with colorful wildflowers. The wind that bent the tall grasses and carried the sweet, heady scent of the mature blooms did little to alleviate the heat, but the black mare remained where she was in the direct light of the sun. She deserved her discomfort.

The half-blind mare lifted her head and flicked her tail against her white hindquarters. Her thoughts threatened to sink to a variety of painful topics —Jezibelle, Rurisk, Kisei, Ikari, Mouse, Zhenya— but she tossed her head and scattered them. Right now she was thinking only of the heat. Earlier, Impa had gone to the wide, clear pool collected on one side of the mountain and rolled in the shallow end until her whole body was wet, and that had helped for a time. Her feathers were still damp but the rest of her had dried quickly in the sun.

Standing in the small, quiet meadow as the wind tousled her long, thick hair reminded Impa of her first visit to the Commons— another painful memory, one she couldn’t quite squash as her heart flexed in her chest at the thought of Mazurka, her surrogate mother, and the day she and Kisei had invited the quiet, strong mare back to their Forest. There was no one left to her now, though. Mazurka was dead. Her father was dead. Her siblings might as well be dead, and Impa was alone. She could not honestly recall the last time she had spent time in the company of another horse and not felt lonely.

There had been that time, in the rain, with her grandsire— but he was gone, too, perhaps back to the mainland. It hurt that he hadn’t said goodbye.

Impazienza shook out her mane and snorted. There was joy to be found in this solitude, and she was determined to find it. Fate had made it clear she was doomed to be alone, and there was no point in fighting it any longer. Impa didn’t have the energy. She closed her eyes halfway and propped the tip of one forehoof on the firm ground as the wind whispered around her and tried to relax.

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


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