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.
YOU LEFT ME IN THE DARK
Posted on November 26, 2020 at 09:27:57 PM by impazienza




IMPAZIENZA

The dead is coming for her, dragging his rotting limbs step by painful step as he comes closer. Impa can imagine his face, grotesque in death, and she keeps her eyes closed, as she gathers her hindquarters under her in preparation of a powerful backward kick. Father or devil, she'll go down fighting. The voice that comes through the fog is muffled, masculine, but lacking entirely the otherworldly and somber tone she's expecting. Me? he asks, and Impa twists her head to listen more closely to his approach. There is no reeking cloud of rot rolling ahead of him, no ghastly yellow-green light permeating the fog— only the smell of another horse, as mortal as she.

"Don't be ridiculous," she replies sharply, then softens her tone as she adds, "I was talking to myself." Impa snorts, then backs up a couple of steps to turn herself carefully around. She can feel the incline of the mountain raising her hindquarters a little higher than the front of her body, and she resists the urge to kick back at the sloped ground. It isn't the mountain's fault she can't climb it. The peak simply is. It's her eyesight that isn't.

The blasted fog helps nothing. She tries not to sound cross as she extends her muzzle, looking for the owner of the voice as she asks, "Where are you?" Better, maybe, would have been to stay beside Mouse in the lowlands and be content to graze among those gentle hills. Then she wouldn't be in this embarrassing situation of having to ask for help. At least she doesn't recognize this stallion. It's unworthy of her, but she thinks gratefully that at least Het Vuur isn't still around— but maybe he would appreciate this moment, were he the one to come upon her bickering blindly with stone. "And how high up are we? I can't..." she flares her nostrils and stamps a feathered forehoof. "I can't see with all this blasted fog."
17’3 // BLACK BLANKET // DRAFT MUTT // MARE

html made with love for uforia by shiva


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