The Lost Islands
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Your King
Asmodeus
Your Queen
Nyimara
The Second
None
The Herd
Name, Name, Name
The Sub-Herd
Name, Name, Name
Allies
Name (Land)
Enemies
Solomon (Cove)
The Rules
  • There will be no fraternizing with enemies. If you put yourself knowingly in danger, don't expect a rescue.
  • We are only as strong as our weakest link. See to it that you are getting stronger in some skill that is useful, whether it is battling, recruiting, charming, etc.
  • The King and Queen have final say in all matters.
The devil is in the details, Razvan
Posted on March 21, 2012 at 02:56:18 PM by El Aran




While the sun tracked her passage across the wide expanse of desert, filling her with its insistent heat, El Aran had re-explored her home. Visiting each of the oases had proven that the largest one, the one where Mellow had stood in all his grand stillness, was the only oasis that currently retained water. The black mare rested at the foot of the pool in the great oasis now, her journeying done with for the time being. There had been no sign of the great cats that roamed the edges of her homeland anywhere in this desert, nor had she discovered any fresh or ancient kills. The ocean licked one side of her home and El Aran avoided that border religiously, preferring to be able to flee inland rather than be pushed into salt-water and—

But such memories were useless, here.

Lifting her black head, she cupped her fine ears forward and stared across the pool. She had met Mellow, as Encantador had suggested. That left Razvan. One of the two stallions had a family —her partner had not specified which— and she was curious as to where that family was. El Aran had seen no life here other than the great red stallion, although she had scented quite a few horses during her rounds. Encantador’s had been mingled among them, and so she had seen no reason to interrupt whatever business he was conducting by joining him.

It was a pleasant day despite the unrelenting sun. El Aran rejoiced in the constant heat. A bit of wind picked at her mane and tried to lift her tail, but it was a weak breeze at best in the shelter of the oases. Out along the flat ground, or especially by the rolling hills that led toward the Dunes, the wind had a sharper bite as it flung sand at any obstacle it encountered. She tossed her head to discourage flies and emitted a sharp whistle for the third in command. Her voice would carry, but with luck Razvan would be within hearing range.

Aşk's eighth eye
♥ Uforia



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