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
Posted on August 2, 2020 at 09:46:44 PM by Rhadra

Izzy sees him first. The filly is ever-aware of the next-best-thing in life and just as determined to investigate, so when the yearling colt tramps their way he catches the eye of the bay girl immediately. She drops the question she was asking, mid-sentence, to step around Rhadra, forgetting momentarily the creek and its mysteries. "Hello!" she responds, short black tail flipping excitedly. Her mother's influence is still strong enough to anchor her at the black mare's shoulder, but even now she tests the bounds of Rhadra's tolerance by taking a step forward. As of yet she has not encountered anyone more or less her size, still petite of hoof and small of head, and she stares at the piebald boy with keen interest as her dam shifts to bring their visitor into view.

"Hello there," Rhadra echoes her daughter, smiling warmly. He's very young, she thinks, and checks behind him for signs of his mother. In her herd on the mainland a yearling would still be monitored, to some extent, by his or her dam, and she has no reason to believe the customs would be otherwise on the Isles— although perhaps she should, for as she has learned things are done differently here. Almost, she mistakes him for a son of Collision's, startling herself with wondering whether or not her friend has children. Surely he would not spend so much time with Isabella and her if he had foals of his own— or perhaps he is not permitted to even step outside the borders of the Peak. This boy's ears, though, and general build are different enough from the painted stallion that she dismisses it. Were it not such a sensitive subject, she might bring it up to Collision next time they came together, but well does Rhadra know the pain of admitting to a lack of children. She will not subject him to such misery.

Izzy, emboldened by the lack of reprimand, bounds a few more steps forward and stops stiff-legged just out of reach of the yearling. Her eyes flick over his curved ears before she meets his eyes and grins. "Wanna play a game?" she asks, one ear of her own tipping back to catch the sound of Rhadra's feathered hooves swishing through the short grass as she ambles nearer. The gypsy mare surveys the treeline behind the boy even as she lowers her muzzle to nip gently at her daughter's haunch. "Mind your manners, Izzy."

The bay filly snorts lightly. "I'm Izzy, and this's my momma Rhadra. Who're you?"

"Izzy," Rhadra sighs.

rhadra



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