The Lost Islands
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Your King
Asmodeus
Your Queen
Nyimara
The Second
None
The Herd
Name, Name, Name
The Sub-Herd
Name, Name, Name
Allies
Name (Land)
Enemies
Solomon (Cove)
The Rules
  • There will be no fraternizing with enemies. If you put yourself knowingly in danger, don't expect a rescue.
  • We are only as strong as our weakest link. See to it that you are getting stronger in some skill that is useful, whether it is battling, recruiting, charming, etc.
  • The King and Queen have final say in all matters.
oh, i haven't got a brain






There is a quiet stillness that consumes the Desert in the wake of the storm's fierceness. He had sheltered his small family in the cave, where they could ride out the worst of the storm. In truth, he had spent most of the night worrying for Najaat. The fierce desert mare was still aloof with him, as though she could barely tolerate the time that she spent in his presence, and he was content to give her the reign that she needed.

He was no tyrant to force her to stay near to him, nor was he so confident in his own ability to woo her that he thought he could entice her to do so. Scarecrow was content to simply be an Erkekk to her, as long as she afforded him the privilege of a conversation on occasion when her feet stilled in their wanderings.

In truth, he felt slightly guilty. He had bribed her here with promises of looking for her lost oracle, but had not done his part to uphold the search in a good number of months. The arrival of Aries had all but destroyed his desire to wander far from the Desert, and even now, as he walked the perimeter of the Desert, his thoughts lingered on the bright little colt.

It was only the circling birds that alerted him to something amiss, and his heart stutter-stepped in his chest. After the losses in the Spring, he was always worried that the wolves would come back to plague them again. Scarecrow lunged toward the ground over which they circled, afraid that he would find the carcass of someone that he cared for.

Najaat was not yet a carcass, but it was clear that something had happened to her. Sand dusted her entire figure, wiping away the beautiful hue shifts within her grey coat, and she moved with a limp that had him immediately worried. Ignorant to her condition, he nickered gently in greeting, his concern evident in both his tone and the way that his brow creased in worry.

"Najaat?" He sidles closer, but does not encroach on her space. Najaat is no Libra, who might accept his touch gladly. If he were to brush his muzzle across her skin, she'd likely leave him a new scar.


SCARECROW

. saddlebred x marwari stallion . 17.2 hands . greying sooty dunalino . loveinspired .



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