The Lost Islands
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Lagoon

The Boss

Garmr

The Marauder

Peyote

The General

Marko

The Companions

None Druna None

The Thieves

Jormungandr
Khyber
Kristjan
Síhtríc
Tribulation

The Associates

Azizi
Atticus
Leukos
Lucifer
Salinger
Thranduil

The Soldiers

Kheldar
Vaingard
Rosto

The Trinkets

None

Boss's Decree

"For every brother you bring to our
midst, you may keep a trinket all to
yourself. She will not be sullied or traded, unless you deem otherwise. But should you bring a mare here without a new brother first, then I will consider her property of the Lagoon as a whole
and do with her as I see fit." - Garmr

The Offspring

None

Rules

• The Lagoon is where homeless stallions come to live as a brotherhood. Mares may not live here except as captives or companions for the Leaders.

• Soldiers keep mainly to fighting, Thieves keep mainly to raiding, and Associates may do both, neither, or act as diplomats. Members may issue their own battles and raids, but should generally consult the General, Marauder or Boss for permission.

• All major decisions are determined by vote, but the Boss maintains order within the Lagoon 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 Lagoon works on the Rules page.

• Upon election, the Boss can issue a rule for members to follow during their tenure. It is up to leadership to enforce.

Daisies on your nightstand





Mercury is not an anxious mother, but she begins to feel the prickles of worry in the small hours of the morning when she still can’t find Snapdragon.

The air is fresh after a heavy rain the past few days, and the sky is clear. The moonlight is plenty bright, and turns Mercury’s buttermilk coat into a silvery sheen as she comes out from beneath the trees and stands fully in its gaze. Her heart is beating just. A little too fast, and her movements are just a little too quick, but relief is instant when she sees the painted yearling filly on the beach.

“Snap,” she hisses, “what are you doing out here? I was worried.”

Her movements are slower now, more relaxed, as she crosses the still-warm sand to her daughter by the water. She notices the puffy eyes and tear tracks when she’s only a few strides away, and her worry kicks up again; not the anxiety of a missing child, but a present and hurting one. “Are you okay?” she asks. “Did something happen?” She closes the remaining distance between them, leaving a small gap for her daughter to close if she chooses, but Mercury knows she might want space — she certainly did, often, when she was that age.


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