The Lost Islands
CLICK FOR IMAGE CREDITS

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.
YOU LEFT ME IN THE DARK
Posted on July 27, 2020 at 10:34:43 PM by impazienza




IMPAZIENZA

Though it has not been an easy journey, it feels good to put hoof to earth once more and stride on ground packed by the passage of so many others. These fields and hills are familiar, and though she would not go so far as to call them home there is something about it that feels welcoming all the same. Impa strides slowly, evenly, through the short-cropped grass of the Falls. Half-blind since birth, she is unperturbed by the cataracts which now cloud her right eye and reduce her surroundings to an indistinct and shadowy haze. It's better this way, she has decided. No way to recognize the demons of her past when they inevitably come to call. Ugly brutes, one and all, she thinks with a cough as the ground underfoot begins to slope perceptibly upward.

The Peak cannot be far now, and that she knows to be home. Impa picks up her feet with a little more vigor, lifting her heavy head and flicking her ears forward as if anticipating the touch of an old friend. The wind tumbles down from the mountains and rolls over the black mare, who leans into it and draws a deep breath as she ambles toward home. She is rewarded with the cold scent of shale, stone undercut by frost, the heady scent of mares in heat whipped inconsistent on the brisk breeze and it pulls across her whitened lips a smile— until the next gust fills her nares with the musk of stallions and Impa grinds to a glacial halt.

Surely she is not headed to the Lagoon.

She lifts her white muzzle higher and flexes her upper lip to scent again. There it all is: the stone of her home, clear cold water, a smattering of mares, and stallions. Not one or two, but a mass of them congregating on her mountain and polluting it with their stink when they have their own damned land on the southern end of the Crossing to muck about in. She stamps a hoof, hard, and snorts to clear her airways. Is it not enough that they alone command each territory on the four islands ringing the Crossing? That they alone may fight and steal and are free to barter mares like meat among themselves? Must they also take and defile the one place of female sanctuary in addition to amassing as bachelors in their humid, wet Lagoon? "What in high hell," she mutters from behind clenched teeth.
17’3 // BLACK BLANKET // DRAFT MUTT // MARE

html made with love for uforia by shiva


Replies:

Post a reply:
Name:
Email:
Subject:
Message:
Link Name:
Link URL:
Image URL:
Password To Edit Post:





Create Your Own Free Message Board or Free Forum!
Hosted By Boards2Go Copyright © 2020


<-- -->