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.
smell the blossoms through the snow
Posted on August 18, 2017 at 02:25:08 PM by JETTA



JETTA


The storm had kept her up all night, and when Jetta finally awoke early that morning, her eyelids were as heavy as anvils. For a time she leaned the bulk of her growing belly against the firm support of an ancient oak and simply drank in the sounds of the morning. The trees had been more or less stripped of their autumn plumage in the fierce winds, and now the ground was coated in a sodden blanket of brown and gold. Water dripped rhythmically from the naked branches, and a few tentative birds whistled into the chilly air. The scent of wet earth was strong in Jetta’s nostrils.

It was the most at peace she had felt in a while. For once, the troubling memory of her recent blackout was far from her mind.

When a shrill squeal cut through the quiet, Jetta’s heart leapt into her mouth and she stood straight, listening intently. She knew Macabre was likely near - she had caught her best friend’s scent close by the night before - but there were no more cries: nothing to help Jetta identify the horse in question. After sucking in a deep breath to calm her nerves and taking a moment to stretch the stiffness from her limbs, the Prime Minister headed in the direction of the commotion, her hooves squelching in the mud and soggy leaves.

“-my grandfather Het Vuur,” she eventually heard a stallion’s voice saying, and she nearly froze in surprise. Picking up her pace into an easy trot, Jetta at last caught sight of them up ahead and broke through the trees to come stand at Macabre’s side. She gave her friend an affectionate touch on the shoulder before giving the stallion before them her complete attention. He was a tall beast with loud white markings, and amber eyes that made Jetta’s lips part in wonder. Though she had inherited her sire’s blue gaze, she knew that red-gold color and what it meant. There were not many horses on the islands with eyes like that.

“Good morning,” she greeted the pair in a croaky voice, and offered the stallion a cautious smile. “Who might you be, sir? Are you Orkaan, by chance?”


FRIESIAN MUTT; 16’1HH; BAY SPLASH; SEVEN

html and character by shiva; pattern from colourlovers


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