The Lost Islands
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A Mystic, Myth, or Fable...

Ailill
The fillies had grown into their hooves, and into their senses of adventure. More and more they were wandering away from Siobhan and Ailill, off on their own journeys and blazing their own trails, only to return in the evening for the family to settle in for the night. Their ability to leave and explore on their own had given Ailill and Siobhan time alone, as well as time apart. The red mare had concerns on her mind that she had not shared with him. Her silence and distance concerned him, but he gave her space and let her work through whatever was on her mind. He trusted she would eventually confide in him and he would be there for her every step of the way until she did.

This time gave him the freedom to be able to do as he had promised to do when he first came to the Ridge. Protect it. Or at least walk the trails to know who is around. His time was spent checking on Rahsheeda, checking the trails for safety for his daughters, and looking for others who resided here. He had been permitted to be Faolian’s second, but still it seemed as though they were two herds entirely. Those the mare brought in, and those who had stayed with Ailill. As gracious as he was to Foalian for allowing them to stay, the stallion still felt the desire to bring the families together. They were strangers in the same land, there was bound to be something to bring them all together.

As he walked he did in fact come across an unfamiliar scent and followed it to the small clearing. He grinned at the sight of broken grass where someone had laid to rest. Picking up his hooves he trotted in teh direction he figured whoever had been there had gone, still more thrilled it was in the direction of one of the favored creeks. At last her golden body met his eyes and he called a greeting through the trees as he approached. Once within a polite distance, he bowed his respectfully to her. Greetings! I have not seen you in the Ridge before. I am Ailill, one of the guardians here. His pale golden face split into his usual grin as he reached out his soft nose to greet her properly. I hope you have found the jungle forest welcoming.

golden cream champagne - knight - general of the ridge - dargon
html by russell - character by dargon



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