The Lost Islands
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ahoy there!

>
Pirate had always had a will to live, up until that day. The maiden came close to letting a wave swallow her and end the suffering and worry. She didn’t want to end up like one of the mares she helped to enslave; it was once more the evening of the scales that she worried about. It was almost more concerning things tipped in her favor finding this quiet roost. She is surprised by his hurried response to her call, he was prompt and respectful and now knowing one of these leaders she felt pangs of regret deep in her gut for pulling them away from wives and foals.
She lets him brush his muzzle against her shoulder, having not been in the most affectionate of relationships (which really was none at all); she did not shy from, but did not return the symbol. She instead lets her face brighten. ”I didn’t want to be a burden, I needed some time.” she states honestly, she needed time to rebuild her pride, restack the boulders for walls she brought with her internally, and heal spiritually and physically. She was almost there; she had perhaps picked up a conscious in her process.
”I appreciate what you’ve done, Pagan. This is a very nice place.” She curtly nods at him, tossing her platinum locks from her expresso brown eyes and returning her gaze to the vanner. ”I, am Pirate.”




mare // Paint // Solid Palomino ee/AA/nCr //

no home // no offspring

p i r a t e

it's a pirate's life for me



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