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.
send me reeling, Kestral
Posted on March 31, 2020 at 12:44:42 PM by Rhadra



i’m on fire, again
Fall is fading fast and Rhadra can deny the pull of the Peak no longer. She returns to the mountain base with her aching heart wrapped snugly in the memory of her time near the shoreline with the wordless bay stallion. She took great comfort in his company then and even recalling it now eases the weight of the stone in her chest. There had been some freedom in inviting him to cover her, knowing it would ultimately amount to nothing, and Rhadra holds that warm memory close as she pauses on a low slope, a cold wind buffeting her dark face.

Today is the day she ascends. The overwhelming awe she felt the first time in their presence has blossomed into reverence, and she raises her head to the wind in quiet exultation to drink deeply of the brisk air. It reinvigorates Rhadra. Joy bubbles up within her until, giddy as a filly, she bucks and gallops down the little slope, whinnying a greeting to the mountains ahead.

It is hillier here, and she selects a not-so-steep slope to begin her climb. The wind blows through the thick grass invitingly, and she pauses near a tumble of rocks to inspect the shattered shale, delighted at her discovery, before spending some time wandering the relatively flat-topped meadow. Her explorations reveal more rocks, more grass, a smattering of low shrubs and a burrowing critter who dives under the dirt too quickly for her to see more than a flash of its white tail. “I hope you’ve a warm home to go to,” she calls after it, smiling. “You’ll be too cold if you’re all alone.”

She raises her head, then looks skyward for the ever-wheeling form of Keen. Rhadra cannot winter alone. It has been hard enough keeping her own company while the weather has been good. And with the threat of ice and snow at the forefront of her mind, Rhadra has come to the first place, the only place, she can imagine trying to put her roots— and that due largely to the stallion who is otherworldly bliss incarnate.

With the soaring hawk in her sights, Rhadra picks another slope to climb and goes to find Kestral.
Rhadra


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