The Lost Islands
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Men and beasts

Tyr had been resting closer to the center of his territory when the call had echoed across the Ridge, causing his ears to flick to the sound before his two-toned eyes opened. After the many intrusions in the Ridge since his claim, he was sort of surprised that someone even bothered having manners. He almost scoffed, thinking maybe it was just a trick and that he should just ignore them. Tyr knew he couldn’t though; not like he would have if he was still in the Lagoon. There, any one of the brothers could have answered it. Here, Drogon wouldn’t bother and Oswin was off patrolling the other side of the territory. With a single huff that rocked his shoulders, Tyr picked up a lazy trot and moved his way closer to the border.


The stallion had to slow into a walk from the dense jungle before he reached the intruder. But unlike the big grey mare that had clashed with him, this one carried similar coloring as himself. She was too young to be a filly he had sired, so it left the Ridge King confused, a frown sitting firmly upon his otherwise straight face as he stopped before her. Was this a child of Vadim? Or of another golden colored son? Perhaps no relation at all, and he was simply seeing things when he shouldn’t.


“You smell of Paradise.” He stated as a greeting, his deep rumbling voice breaking the silence between them. “Has the grey mare gone? Or have you come to state a challenge in her stead?”


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