The Lost Islands
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HEAD OF THE PRAIRIE
zevulun
SECONDARY THIRD
castillon lir
GUARDIANS
jasper, micah, thames, lohan
 
RESIDENTS OF THE PRAIRIE
hirka, eira, aura
 eirena, frond, aurelie, luna
mage, daire, vervain, claret
lior, hael, atropa belladonna
vernonia		 name, name, name
 
CHILDREN OF THE PRAIRIE
eriana, name, name
 *odette, eudora, *dolores
adira		 name, name, name
 
ALLIES
ENEMIES
rafe (badlands)
evrain (hills)
sephiroth (thicket)
bacardi (forest)
mariael (arch)
tyr & oswin (ridge)
none
 
GUIDELINES

- the Prairie stands as a symbol of peace and prosperity among the islands
- anyone is welcome to live here so long as they do not bring harm to the Prairie or any of it's residents
- adventure and exploration is not only allowed, but encouraged! residents are asked to use their better judgement and not travel to places that could bring them harm
- the head of the prairie has final say in all prairie matters. the secondary and third positions are not able to be challenged for and are selected by the head
- the guardians take on a more active role in the prairie; they must protect the inhabitants of the prairie and go on patrols of the prairie borderlines and shore. they can welcome strangers to the prairie and invite anyone to live here, though they must inform one of the leaders of any newcomers or visitors
Live through this lie
Posted on May 1, 2018 at 04:55:55 PM by S H A M WARI & Vita Nova






Was I left behind?
Tell me, tell me I survived.


All signs of autumn were gone, as winter took a fresh hold over the Prairie. The landscape was bleak -- the tall, golden reeds snapped off in the wind, or turned brown with the frost and withered away. Snow lied in patches over the hilly terrain, and the dark, swollen clouds overhead threaten to continue the onslaught every day. They've lingered over the land ever since we found Bright Eyes. Her passing has seemingly sucked all the joy and the sunshine from our home. The land is moist and wet, moisture oozes from the hard soil with every step I take along the borders of my home. Our usual patrolling trails have become thick and bogged down with mud. Bright Eyes' remains still scatter the shoreline. It's a part of our path we've chosen to veer away from. Hopefully by spring the sand dune in which she lay will be thick and vibrant in her place. Hopefully by then, our souls too be will be open to more light and more joy. But for now, we push on through the dark and bitter days.

The nights are long and quiet this time of year. Jabari, Verdi and I huddle together as the sun disappears for warmth. The young colt sleeps soundly at his brother's side, though it's clear that Jabari rarely rests. On this particular evening, after I leave them briefly for a quick patrol, I find my painted son soundly asleep. Afraid of disturbing this rare moment of peace for his tormented soul, I stay away, hovering idly in the distance.

The wind is harsh tonight. It batters against my thick and unkempt red coat. Leaf litter and twigs cling to the matted stands of my chestnut mane and tail. Mud, which has dried and caked unevenly across my body, hardens the hair of my fur in strong tufts. I imagine I look feral and unhinged to the unbeknownst passerby, but I struggle to find it in me to care. The unrelenting gusts eventually bring with it a new smell, the familiar perfume of Vita Nova and someone else. This second scent rings with some distant familiarity but I can't place it right away. I find it peculiar, however, that Vita Nova chose to wash up along our shores at such an hour, and at such a difficult time of year. But my sister wasn't known for making the most of sound mind choices.

My deep, brown eyes linger on Jabari and Verdi as they sleep for a second longer before I strike out against the earth in the direction of Nova's scent. A worry is lit within my gut, and I can feel my heart beat beginning to race. Perhaps it is out of habit now -- my family only seem to visit when something is wrong. I silently pray that tonight this isn't the case.

I crest one him and then another at an ambling but brisk walk. Eventually I spy her, Nova's dark frame nothing more than a silhouette in the night. But her companion seemingly glows in the dark, her slight frame bright between the reeds and snow. I feel a tightness in my throat as I consider this stranger. Could it be? After all this time? I don't call out to them, for fear of waking Jabari and Verdi, but instead, pick up a two-beat gait to reach them sooner. I nicker through the dark as I approach, greeting my sister first with a half-smile and quickly turning my attention to the slighter mare.

"Petal." Her name slips through my lips almost without my own knowledge. For a second, I question whether I am dreaming, actually asleep next to my sons in the distance. "What are you doing here?"

Vita Nova is the first to take a step toward me, bumping my at the shoulder with her damp muzzle. I nicker warmly to her, but quickly, my attention back on Petal then.

"Petal and I met each other on the Crossing Isle." I hear my sister say, but I don't break my gaze from the former member of my herd. I am still in shock that she is here now, standing in front of me. The memories we shared seem so far away, a lifetime ago now. Vita Nova looks to Petal next and offers her friend an awkward smile.



Shamwari | Fresian Mutt | Evaline x Rook | Stallion | Chestnut | 15.3 h |
Half-brother to Kasabian, Vita Nova, Paradiso | Photo © Carina Mailwald | © Vinyl



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