The Lost Islands
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In the name of the King!



The day seemed an impending one which had Braylen’s spirits high. He could feel the tension in the air which lent him energy to run, to pound his hooves into the ground and feel the whipping of the winter wind in his mane and tail as it clawed across his skin. He followed along a well-worn trail that zig zagged between the trees and the painted boy leaned his body with each turn as he pushed faster and churned up dirt in his wake. Nostrils flared he dragged in the crisp air and relished in the feel that only cold air could bring to the organs within his painted growing body.


Soon he was forced to slow, the herd looming up ahead and he didn’t wish to scare them. Braylen could just see the color of their coats so he knew they couldn’t quite hear him thundering through the forest yet. With a heavy sigh he stood and rested, cocking his hind hoof and flicking his cream colored tail from one flank to the other before allowing it to rest behind him, the tips brushing just past his hocks.


At the sound of another set of hooves upon the forest floor, Braylen’s ears twisted towards the sound before his eyes followed. It was the sight of his father that filled his blue orbs and a curious expression crosses his face. Was something wrong for him to be approaching so quickly? The thought of the worse came to mind, that stallions of the Lagoon were coming and that Lyden needed his help or maybe something was wrong with his mother. Growing, thickening muscles tense beneath his white and tan skin and he tosses his head to clear his long forelock from his face so that it lays over to the side and he can get a clear look at the man who sired him.


As Lyden stops beside him, Braylen reaches out his muzzle to bump his father’s neck in greeting. Ears already tipped towards the stallion, one tips back in confusion at his words but his muscles stay tense in his still lanky body. “What is it father?” he asks, his voice a mixture of tones as it is in transition from the soft higher qualities of a colt to the deep rumbling sounds of a stallion. “What would cause you to do something foolish?”





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