Dance to a Faerie's Fiddle - " />
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.
Dance to a Faerie's Fiddle


Taika’s gleeful smile faltered at Koray’s hesitancy. She pulled her head back and swished her tail through the air. One ear flitted back and her head tilted at him. Dark eyes looked between Orhan and her mother, uncertain if she had done something to scare the other foal. Blinking to herself, she put it from her mind and slowly pressed forward, a friendly smile still on her face. Maybe this colt had not played with other horses before! Mind racing, she tried to think of something that he might explore with her. It was a challenge, she had only been here once and did not know the spirits that were here.

“Koray, can you show me this place? I had to leave before I could really take a look around!” The young woman glared playfully at her mother, who snorted back at her. Taika looked hopefully back at the colt. Maybe if she let him take the lead he would feel more comfortable.

The darker mare watched her daughter for a moment with a smile on her face. For a while she had been worried the magnitude of her energy would be as overwhelming to the world around them as it had been to her. It brought her peace to know that Taika could bring herself down for the sake of making a friend. Even if only to ramp it back up again to terrorize those who were used to her. She looked back at Orhan and lowered her head sheepishly. Her friend had never told her where exactly she had been from, but the breeding and build of her body had been one accustomed to sands instead of harder dirt. She had leapt to a possibly a false assumption.

“At least, I think she was from here. She spoke of strange things, and acted different from most I had met. Her name was El Aran. Did you happen to know her?” Her voice lifted hopefully. She missed the other mare terribly and would have loved to see her again. Even though El Aran had never returned to the mountains she hoped the other mare had found peace and happiness where ever she had ended up.

She chuckled at Orhan’s observation of her offspring. He had no idea how right he was. “You should meet my son. He is much the same.” The years spent with both of the foals had clearly brought a sense of age to the mare, stealing away the youthfulness that had shined so brightly from her when she had first landed on the islands. Looking back at her daughter it was obvious the woman was proud of her children and would never have traded either of them for anything in the world. At his question Taytim blinked for a moment, trying to find the right words to answer him. Her life had been spent wandering and she had known stallions to take advantage of that. There was a moment of wariness and she looked over the male. If she told him the truth he could very likely claim her for his home. She did not know if she was ready to give up her life-style. “I raised my children in the Peak, counting on the women there to help keep them safe. Taika, I believe will always call it her home, and my son has gone off to make a name for himself.” It was an answer without really answering his question. She felt bad for side-stepping his question. The man seemed honest enough, but this was a strange place with possibly strange ways. Her father had taught her enough to be wary of stallions she did not know.



Mare - Morgan Mutt - 14.2hh - Black Chestnut - 5 Years



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