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.

Devil's gonna get you if I don't first

Maybe he was a bit rusty with his charms, but it didn't really mattered what he had to say. His claim on this mare made her his property, a vessel to carry his seed come fall and a friend to keep his sister company. Sabela was so lonely since the dissapearence of the Bay herd (which Warsaw was estaic about) and the restrictions put on her child. Warsaw had thought about sending Sabela away so she would have less control over Ysabel, but now he was thinking he might just keep her around. She couldn't spill any secrets anyway. His attention was brought back to the mare standing in front of him.

A hoof lifts and paws at the light blanket of snow that had collected on the island. He wonders what this young mare might think when she sees the snow at the Inlet. He almost laughs thinking she will hate it, but at least there was a herd there she could cling too. The islands were so desolated now that the Inlet was one of the few herds left to provide the protection and warmth she would need to survive. She spoke, seemingly unattracted to the cold, but Warsaw looks her over. He notices the scars. The female than says she knows what a claim was. She didn't seem to mind as much as most did when he claimed them. "Don't worry you look built for the cold. Plus, I will do my part to keep you warm." There was that charm again.

The Andalusian mix moves to her side and lightly nips her forward. "Why don't you tell me more about yourself as we walk home?" The mare had yet to give her name, which he found rude since he had given his own already, but her name didn't matter much anyway. The roan looked to be a Mustang so their future children would be hardy foals. Survivalists as he liked to call them because of the Mustang's ability to survive in most weather conditions. His grandmother had been a purebred Mustang so he understood the blood that ran through his veins. It was the Andalusian of his sire that mostly took over his form and gave him his dashing looks. He was fine with because it helped attract the ladies, but he wouldn't mind strengthening his line with more Mustang blood.

Warsaw
Devil's gonna get you if I don't first
html by castlegraphics; art by DarknFallen


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