The Lost Islands
CLICK FOR IMAGE CREDITS

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
Gόneşlenmek
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.
Making love to a m e m o r y
Posted on July 21, 2017 at 05:43:21 PM by Macabre




"If Love himself weep, shall not lovers weep,
learning from what sad cause he pours his tears?
Love hears his ladies crying their distress,
showing forth bitter sorrow through their eyes
because villainous Death has worked its cruel
destructive art upon a gentle heart,
and laid waste all that earth can find to praise
in a gracious lady, save her chastity."

The morning sun peaked through a dense forest's thick canopy, bright and warm rays leaking past the ruffled leaves and overarching branches and staining her coat with light in mismatched forms. She welcomed the warmth, the mare's growing frame collected tightly into a ball on the earth's floor, her aching limbs neatly folded underneath her heaving girth, and petite head laid out on a patch of cool and damp soil. The sun had fallen and risen several times since Macabre realized she was pregnant, and she'd been careful to keep things as routine as possible, always with the health of her growing foal inside of her in mind. The flaxen mare lay there for quite some time as a rare autumn thunderstorm ravaged the island. The incessant howling wind at the Peak's high altitude caused her to seek shelter earlier than usual, so she returned to private, hidden domain amongst a small cluster of trees near the base of the peak.

The mare awoke when the storm had vanished, leaving the Peak in some disarray with downed tree branches and lingering, blustery weather. She blinked in quick succession, her wide and dark marbeled eyes scanning her surroundings. For a moment, she thought she was still dreaming. It was one she had many times before, after she awoke in the Ridge that first time she met Vodnik, similarly having been stranded in his foreign territory during a storm. It seemed that even when she was asleep, Macabre's fitful mind wasn't ready to let go of her past.

The Peak was quiet at this early morning hour. She focused on the distant chirps. High-pitched, tender calls streaking through the sky, the volume fading as the gang of ospreys took flight from the trees overhead. Macabre's chestnut lobes flicked forward and back, listening intently for the rustle of feathers in the birds' wide wingspan, for the blows of air that flapped back with each gentle thrust into flight. She remained on the earth's floor for some time, just listening. Her slender legs were folded and tucked neatly under her barrel, which rose and fell in gentle huffs with each passing breathe.





"Hear then how Love paid homeage to this lady;
I saw him weeping there in human form,
observing the stilled image of her grace;
and more than once he raised his eyes toward Heaven,
where that sweet soul already had its home,
which once, on earth, had worn enchanting flesh."

Macabre | 12 | Mare | Mustang X Morgan | 14.2 HH | flaxen chestnut | © Vinyl




Replies:

Post a reply:
Name:
Email:
Subject:
Message:
Link Name:
Link URL:
Image URL:
Password To Edit Post:







<-- -->