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
Gόneşlenmek
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.

Ain't life just awful strange

a new world hangs outside the window
beautiful and strange
it must be I've fallen awake
I must be



The Prime Minister of the Peak hadn't seen the dark Icelandic stallion she'd once snatched away from the Lagoon. Not since he'd won back his freedom fair and square, and returned to serving Cullen. She wondered, in the weeks leading up to the war, if she'd have to face him there. But if the stallion was there in support Cullen, which she easily assumed he was, their paths never crossed. Nor did she get wind of him among the gaggle of captives Bozena had so expertly collected in the aftermath of the war. Ivar, it seemed, was elusive.

So the disgruntled stallion faded from her thoughts. After all, Wasp had much more pressing issues to tend to, and other worries on her mind. Even though Ivar had been a skilled warrior, besting even herself for his freedom not that long ago, she always wondered why he didn't hold a higher rank in Cullen's crew.

There were too many stallions to keep track of anymore. Her amber gaze passed by them in a blur - a red one, a brown one, another red one - and so it went. They were all fairly restless, the bachelors and the Vulcan herd, and it felt like lately, they had overstayed their welcome. Whatever cheer that came after Bozena's monumental success in battle had faded. The Vulcan herd was tired - tired of keeping them in line, of making sure there was enough to feed them all through the winter, or keeping them away from the foals that were newly on the ground. It was time to figure out where they should go next.

Wasp wanders down the rocky trail on the way to the usual creek, her mind fraught with the usual worries. She couldn't shake this feeling of self consciousness and paranoia, ever since her awkward conversation with Nekharat. She didn't like feeling like her actions were being judged, or her decisions criticized. The young leader recoiled, showing just how inexperienced she really was, at all this.

A semi-familiar scent came to her in the brisk chilly breeze and the dark bay mare's ears flicked forward at attention. Her amber gaze swept across the landscape, peering through the thin trees in an attempt to put a face with the smell. There, in the distance she spied him. Briefly, a half-amused smirk found its way to her whiskered lips, and she trotted over. She wasn't surprised when Ivar greeted her with a familiar scowl.

"You're good at keeping a low profile." She spoke as she approached, slowing her pace to a lazy walk and then a halt. "I thought you were the one that got away."

W A S P



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