The Lost Islands
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Falls

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

Live through this lie







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




I don't flinch, and hardly move a muscle when the mare picks up on my words, and turns sour. I watch as her nose wrinkles and her ears pin. But at least I got her attention. She was no longer splashing or prancing around aimlessly, which was curious in its own right. She's quick with quip back at me, and a half-amused smirk finds its way to my whiskered lips. "You're right. I don't know you." I reply with a gentle flick of my red tail. "But I know Rougaru." I say, followed promptly by a snort.

It seemed the silver bay stallion had a knack for barging in, and I assumed it would only be a matter of time before he found a way to butt himself into this conversation, if you could call it that. I really had no meaningful interest in this mare, nor getting to know her. But here we were, both at the same place at the same time, and there was no telling what kind of information you could coax out of someone, in the right circumstances. "So you don't worry that he'll show up here, and round you back home?" I ask curiously, with the swivel of one copper-colored ear lobe and then the other. "If you consider his place your home, that is."

I want to ask why she's not pregnant, but struggle to find the words that make such a request sound even remotely appropriate. He either cared about her quite a bit or not at all, if she wasn't spreading his seed. Or perhaps this mare had more control over the stud than I was giving her credit for.



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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