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 June 3, 2015 at 03:16:05 AM by impazienza

IMPAZIENZA

In the moment Impa stood in the unquiet of her own thoughts, one good eye cast over the distant Crossing and shoulders flexing unconsciously as she imagined unfurling a great pair of feathered wings, and before her solitude was replaced with company once more, she considered for one terrible moment how easy it would be to step off the edge of her mountain and let gravity bear her body down, head over haunches, legs kicking, to the finality of the earth below.

Her body moved of its own accord, and the big black mare backed away from the dropoff and turned, hate in her face, just as another horse spoke. Impa’s motion accelerated and she twisted, head snapping to point unerringly at her new companion as her ears pinned and her legs tensed, all four hooves pressed firmly against the cold, snow-swept surface of the mountain. While it was impossible for the other mare, a very young and slender sooty buckskin whom she did not recognize, to have heard or guessed at the draft mare’s thoughts, Impa was filled with shame. How could she consider, even for a moment, trying to end her life before it was time?

She shook out her coat and lifted her ears, relaxing both her body and her expression as she did so— all of this in the space of seconds, so that the other mare’s words were just fading as Impa regained her composure. With it came the confidence she had been lacking for so many months, and a new resolve to make the most of her time on this earth. Impa was no weak-willed creature, no coward who glorified death. “Queen?” She said, and snorted. “No. I am the Prime Minister of this Peak. My name is Impazienza,” she said, and wondered at her unconscious decision to introduce herself to a mare on the mountain using her full name— it had been years, Impa thought, since she’d gone by the full name her father had given her.

Impazienza liked it now, and decided it had not been a bad decision. Perhaps formality was what she needed, and not the shallow intimacy that her shortened name encouraged from others.

“What brings you to my mountain top?” the blanketed draft mare asked, and lifted her head a notch higher as her chest swelled with newly regained pride.

17’3 BLACK BLANKET DRAFT MUTT MARE


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