The Lost Islands
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Meadow

Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.

we were hungry before we were born


who knows upon what soil they fed...
How long had it been since Mikhail had shared the company of another? How long, he wondered, since he and Sojourner had parted ways? He could never quite keep track of the time, the days blending into each other in a never-ending blur. But he remembered his time with her clearly, how they had come together in their mutual grief, forged a bond from the salt of their tears. Since they'd parted, he had wondered frequently if they would ever cross paths again. He didn't dare try to track her down, fearing he might send the wrong message.

So when he heard her call, a sweet silvery sound that beckoned him from afar, he was quite pleased. The day was clear and crisp, autumn settling over the land in a blanket of vibrant reds and yellows. Mikhail paused in his journey across the Meadow, craning his head this way and that in an attempt to find the ivory woman. Finally, he saw her upon the horizon, her own eyes already fixed upon his distant figure. A long-forgotten sense of warmth and excitement bubbled its way from the blackened void inside his chest, bursting from his lips in a shrill whinny.

Immediately, the painted stallion went to her, dirt-laden hooves carrying him swiftly over the wilting Meadow. A gentler nicker fell from his lips in greeting. Closer and closer he comes, until he can reach out to briefly press his nose to the warm flesh of her cheek, drinking in her familiar scent for a moment before drawing away. He didn't want to crowd her space, to assume she would still welcome his touch beyond more than an affectionate greeting.

"Sojourner. It's very nice to see you again." He greets her simply and softly, sky-blue eyes shining brighter than they had in weeks. He was happy to see her again, eager to hear how she had been. He didn't pause long enough to think about the slight swell of her sides, the plumpness that had begun to settle in her belly. For now, it is a thought that exists only at the edge of his mind.


their hungry thirsty roots?
seven. georgian grande mutt. bay tobiano
of nowhere. blind. felony x zhenya. pippa.
html by pippa; image by foolishsunsets


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