The Lost Islands
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ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔵𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔨𝔦𝔰𝔰

"Mallachd ort!!" She spat in his face, but the action only angered the beast more. He continued his advances until he succeeded in his efforts. She didn't know how the little beast was so mighty, but his persistence paid off. Quickly, she grew tired and her inexperience in fighting gave him an advantage. He injured her leg, gave her a few good bites, and took her innocence. Her mother would be devastated and her father enraged, if only they were here.

As if the gods were angered, a storm came down upon the land. Thunder roared loudly overhead, the rain darkened the land, and lightning was the only thing that lit up her path across the treacherous sea as she escaped the beast. She looked back once, but she did not see the grey stallion in pursuit, but she couldn't go back now. He might be waiting for her on the shore knowing it was too risky to travel across the sea in this weather. She pushed on, using every ounce of strength she had left to stay alive. The waves toss her under a few times, but she managed to find the surface each time the sea tries to keep her.

It felt like hours she was fighting, but finally, she felt the sea push her ashore. She didn't know what island she was on now, but she knew it as not the same one she had left. Silently, she prays to the gods that this was a safe place as she drags her body upwards on the beach. Thunder cracks, lightning flashes, and she sees a vast forest lies ahead. Her heart leaps with hope as this was not her home Forest, but it was the closest she has found to home since reaching these cursed islands. She manages to stand and limp towards the towering trees for cover.

She finds a strong trunk to lean against with thick branches that shade her from some of the downpours. She cusses under her breathe, watching the air leave her lungs as the chilly winds brush against her soaked body. She watches the sea thrash about until it whisks her away into a deep sleep.



Translation(s):
mallachd ort!: Curse you!

*Note: Using google translate so most likely I am butchering this language.

𝔐𝔞𝔢𝔳𝔢
female - 3 years - shire -17.2 hands - chestnut - no home
♥dante


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