The Lost Islands
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Common

Force-claiming is allowed here once a week per character, as is blocking force-claims by the Peak/Lagoon (as a whole) once a week. Rollover is on Sundays.

I love you more in my head

I love you more in my head
but I’ll love you better when I’m dead
⬡ ⬡ ⬡

Naydra can see the gears turning inside the little mare's head. The doe isn't stupid, that much she can tell. As the sable mare puzzles over her words, Naydra wonders if it is not muteness that slows their conversation, but a language barrier of some kind. The other mare casts about in response to the silver-black's spoken assumption, considering her words carefully, and eventually she nods. The gesture is a little hesitant.

The little doe's soft eyes find Naydra again. She makes note of the way the other mare's gaze lingers on her face when she speaks, as though searching for meaning in her expression rather than her words, and this seems to lend to Naydra's suspicion of a language barrier. The silver-black wonders what her native tongue is, and where she may have come from. This is an obstacle, but a preferable one to muteness; this one has a solution, even if it is far away.

Naydra wonders if the sable mare knows what she has agreed to when she gives a tentative nod. She is so very timid; more of a challenge than Naydra had originally expected, but it was no matter. There is nothing more satisfying than winning over a most unlikely individual.

The silver-black mare softens the commanding lines of her face, allowing her expression to smooth into a smile of relief. “Good,” she purrs. “I don’t think I could have slept, had I left you here for the wolves.” She pulls back, loosening her posture, letting the coals cool a bit. This one requires gentling, rather than a firm hand. Naydra's eyes flick away from the little mare, and she gazes off in the direction of Luthien, removing the spotlight from the anxious creature, though one ear remains swiveled in her direction. “It's a short swim,” she says reassuringly, though there is no way to know if the message will be received. Still, a soft voice can go a long way, even if the words are gibberish.

Naydra casts a glance back toward the sable mare, but she says no more, only bobbing her head in a clear follow me gesture before setting off toward the shore.
Naydra
mare. 16hh. silver black. rougaru x visurix.


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