The Lost Islands
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Common

Force-claiming is allowed here once a week per character, as is blocking force-claims by the Peak/Lagoon (as a whole) once a week. Rollover is on Sundays.

Live through this lie [CLAIM]









Was I left behind?
Tell me, tell me I survived.




I stand among the lose sand of the shoreline at the common gates, watching idly as the orange mass of the new day's sun begins to rise over the horizon. This was my usual bugle that it was time to patrol the Prairie, to assess my small herd as they awake from a calm night's slumber. But still I stood, watching lazily from underneath the firey red unkempt strands of my thick forelock as the sun began to brighten behind the endless ocean, casting its rippling waves in stark shades of pink and red.

I reveled in the peace I had in this moment, knowing well just how fleeting it was. Jabari would round up the herd if I stumbled into the Prairie a little late this morning. He was old enough now to be of some use on the land. I could use the break, too, if I'm being honest. Isn't that, after all, what drove me from my home to the common isle in the middle of the night? Time had healed the wounds that came from losing in battle against Orkaan and almost losing Bri. In fact, life had been quite good to me since then. Bri was healthy and had birthed us yet another child. Casiseus was a welcome addition to our fold. Evaline seemed more engaged with wanting to be a part of the family than ever before. Paradiso was happy and useful in the Bay, and helped forge an alliance on the Praire's behalf.

It was just Nova, whom I had foolishly trusted Orkaan with for her safety, that seemed to be abandoned out in the cold. My sister, Vita Nova, and her child, were the purpose and intent of this trip. I hoped to find them here and bring them back to Luthien, though I begrudgingly accepted that perhaps I might be forced to return to Tinuvel to find her.

So here I am, wandering at the twilight hour, occasionally dropping my head to graze on the remaining brittle grasses the autumn season offers. I hear a rustling in the brush coming from the direction of a nearby stream and raise my head from the earth's floor just in time to spot a pale-colored mare moving stealthily through the foliage. I watch curiously from my perch as she ambles on, and decide to approach. I nicker gently as not to alarm her as my heavy hooves trudge through the dying leaves along the forest floor. I watch her from a short distance away, my brown eyes never leave her frame. I can smell the strong stench of seawater on her from here, and oddly enough, the arctic forests of Tinuvel. My ears prick at attention as I realize this, and I bob my head in a friendly manner as I take step closer. "Good morning." I say gruffly with the gentle flick of my tail.




Shamwari | Fresian Mutt | Evaline x Rook | Stallion | Chestnut | 15.3 h |
Half-brother to Kasabian, Vita Nova, Paradiso | Photo © Carina Mailwald | © Vinyl




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