The Lost Islands
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ahoy there!


The gypsy vanner’s temperament was one she felt content with. If Pagan could really do as the old saying said, to let things go, and if they return they are yours – Pirate could manage to live life in the tundra. Her zest for adventure and life was uncorked due to her short life being just that, unwavering and with no inhibitions. This was a day Pirate had originally regretted opening her lids from the night’s slumber. It was a day her regret felt heavy in her belly, it’d subsided for now though and a jaunt through this sprawling land was maybe just what she’d needed. ”I’ll find the words to tell you sometime.” she said with a mischievous glint in her eye. He offered her safety, offered her shelter; he wouldn’t tell her to leave would he? Would he think she was masquerading, that she’d do this again? To him?
Her thoughts of telling him tumbled away in the refreshing breeze, she’d come back to them when she had a quiet moment to ponder her future and if telling her past was worth risk. ”Likewise, kind Pagan.” Her words were genuine as she turned, ready to follow behind the man, her thoughts once more fell away, wondering if she’d ever live light hearted and free of turmoil.




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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