~ to run is to die tired. - " />
The Lost Islands
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Falls

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

~ to run is to die tired.




shire x // stallion // 18 hh / Sooty Dunalino Roan Pintaloosa



The sounds of the Lagoon lulled the giant stallion throughout the night; his dual colored eyes sheltered away behind sleeping lids. Only as the morning sun rose, hushing the night creatures and casting its golden glow across his face, did he peek open his eyes. Another day, but Tyr was determined it would not be like the rest since being ushered here. Blinking away the sleep in his eyes, he peered around to see that no one was around. Good. It caused a smirk to tug at his lips before making his way out of the Lagoon, his thoughts taking him back to the Falls where his hooves followed.


As the stallion reached the familiar neutral territory, he raised his thick skull high and peered around at the other horses. He did not see anyone he recognized, but unlike last time, he did not let out a booming call to announce his presence. Still too close to the Lagoon, he didn’t want one of the brothers swooping in to usher him back, thinking he might be trying to escape. Which, wasn’t even close to Tyr’s mind, only that he was tired of seeing the same trees and mud every day.


A scent Tyr had not expected suddenly filled his nose, and for a brief moment, shock colored his face. Nostrils flaring, he drank it in again just to be sure, but there was no mistaking that scent. Turning, the stallion followed it from the little opening and into a cluster of trees. The thicker the foliage became, the stronger the smell was. Damn his size, as he rustled through the leaves loudly that scraped his sides, and his large hooves that broke every twig possible. And damn her for squeezing into such a small area. Just as he drew close enough that she was all he could smell, his ears caught the sound of her venomous voice. The stallion couldn’t help but grin as he pushed his way out of the foliage, stopping as he locked eyes upon the mare.


“That sounds a bit hypocritical, Dara.” he quipped in greeting. “Why are you here?” he said, his voice changing to a more demanding tone.

Tyr ~ the tip of the spear ~

html © erin | art & character © frost




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