The Lost Islands
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Gonna make love to the stars;



I am the razor in the hands of your heart;
And I am the razor in the hands of God.



Evaline lingered here despite her growing distaste for the dusty, red coated terrain. The sand had stained up her coat, a burnt orange covering her coronet band and creeping up the length of her slender limbs. She could feel the dust as it settled in her lungs, her throat sore from the raspy breathes that continued to coat her insides with the arid sand particles. Why was she here? The golden mare stalked through the loose sand in unbalanced steps, sweat beading along her jawline and across the pinkish skin of her muzzle. She could feel the moisture dampening her golden coat, and beginning to froth through the dips in lean muscle around her chest, shoulders and neck.

What the hell was she doing here? Now that Twenty One had seemingly disappeared, there was nothing left for her on the island of Salem. Maybe it was time to finally shift her views and look for her son. She knew she could always rely on KASABiAN for a short time at least. But not a soul seemed to know him in these lands. Where was he these days? For a moment, Evaline imagined her son and Twenty One off in hiding together. The two chuckling to themselves as they told sinister stories about her behind her back. With a low scoff, the image evaporated from her mind and she trudged onward, her sights set on finding the shore again.

Perhaps she was finally growing delusional after spending so many days alone on Salem, but the fresh scent of Twenty One wafted through her nostrils. Her pace faltered for just a moment, her strides coming to a halt as her delicate cranium craned to study the otherwise barren distance. He was not here, she decided, snorting at her silly instincts, and instead carried on. The sounds of the rolling waves were growing louder in the distance. Once she left this place, she decided she would never return. She cursed it under her breathe, her tone sharp and words vulgar. Fuck this place.



8 | Arabian X Quarter Horse X Morgan |14.2 | Palomino



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