~ 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.
Posted on November 4, 2020 at 02:30:59 AM by T y r



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



Like a lion to a lamb, Tyr leads the young mare from the safety of her home and out into the cold salty sea. There is a nagging in the back of his mind that perhaps he shouldn’t have taken her from her home while her child truly was missing. The chill of the Island’s air didn’t seem kind, nor the landscape that would undoubtfully hide the predators set out to destroy the innocent. But the rest of the herd would surely continue to look?


Pushing the thought from his mind, Tyr focused on the swim ahead. It did not take long for them to reach the Crossing’s shore, and he made sure to skirt the Peak to the best of his ability. Though he hadn’t met them officially, he knew what they were about and had clashed with them a few unsuccessful times to try and free his brothers. He wasn’t about to lose this treasure to them too. The big stallion was grateful they had not been disturbed on their journey and made it to the Falls without any interference. “This is where we should look.” he had murmured to the red mare, reaching out to lightly brush her neck with his nose once again before setting off to search for her missing child, though he did not give the effort for very long.


Tyr couldn’t help himself when he found himself standing and staring at the mare. Even with the scar on her face, which did little to hinder her beauty, he thought her rather breath taking. Perhaps it was the hormones that were talking, to make warmth spread through him into his groin. He felt his large heart hammer just a little bit harder, his blood boiling a bit hotter with the thoughts that plagued his mind when she fell in grief. Like a splash of cold water in the face, Tyr’s ears pushed forward and his head lifted slightly as he trotted over to her. As he reached the mare, he lowered his head and let his muzzle travel over her neck as his warm breath brushed along her flesh. She still smelled good, if only she wasn’t still carrying that other’s stallion’s scent.


“I’m sorry.” he said in a low, gentle voice. Tyr stood over her protectively, bringing his lips to her cheek as he nuzzled her in a comforting way. “I had truly thought we would find her here.” Letting out a heavy sigh as if he were truly upset over not finding her daughter, the giant raised his head again and looked around them. Not seeing another soul, Tyr returned his attention down to the mare.


Tyr trails his lips over her shoulder first; a light caress, as he tries to comfort the grieving mother. But the longer he stands there, drinking in her scent and tasting her sweet flesh upon his lips, the more he finds he wants her. “I don’t believe you told me your name.” the golden stallion murmurs, his warm breath upon her back now. “You may call me Tyr.”

Tyr ~ the tip of the spear ~

html © erin | art & character © frost




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