Not all who wander are lost;

Lagoon
The Boss Garmr
The Marauder Peyote		The General Marko

The Companions
None	Druna	None

The Thieves Jormungandr Khyber Kristjan S�htr�c Tribulation	The Associates Azizi Atticus Leukos Lucifer Salinger Thranduil	The Soldiers Kheldar Vaingard Rosto

The Trinkets None	Boss's Decree "For every brother you bring to our midst, you may keep a trinket all to yourself. She will not be sullied or traded, unless you deem otherwise. But should you bring a mare here without a new brother first, then I will consider her property of the Lagoon as a whole and do with her as I see fit." - Garmr	The Offspring None
Rules � The Lagoon is where homeless stallions come to live as a brotherhood. Mares may not live here except as captives or companions for the Leaders. � Soldiers keep mainly to fighting, Thieves keep mainly to raiding, and Associates may do both, neither, or act as diplomats. Members may issue their own battles and raids, but should generally consult the General, Marauder or Boss for permission. � All major decisions are determined by vote, but the Boss maintains order within the Lagoon and has the final say. � Elections for leadership positions will be held every TLI summer, provided the qualifying criteria are met. � You can find detailed information about how the Lagoon works on the Rules page. � Upon election, the Boss can issue a rule for members to follow during their tenure. It is up to leadership to enforce.

Not all who wander are lost;
Posted on March 12, 2021 at 02:31:12 PM by Nyimara

�I�m headed straight for the castle��

Nyimara had settled into a sort of uneasy normality in the Lagoon since her captive. She had long expected Cullen to approach her, but for whatever reason, he always seemed to keep his distance. Of course she was not complaining, she rather preferred the suspicious distance that the other stallions seemed to keep between themselves and herself. A small smirk tugged at her lips as she thought of her companion Shenzi. No doubt the brown mare had her fair share to do with it. Always they had teeth bared and ears pinned for any brave souls who dared to approach them. In the end, the two mares were left to themselves for company, that and the boisterous miniature that lounged in the shade of a nearby shrub enjoying her midday nap.
As Cullen approaches her now, small dark ears perk amid the windswept tangle of her silver white mane. Dark eyes narrow darkly as ash dusted lips peel back into the beginnings of a snarl. How she wanted to hate him. He who had broken the truce and stolen her son. It was he who had held Sigurdr captive among his ranks and threatened her again and again when her loyalties lay with Bjorn. He wanted her son, but the leer in his blue eyes always made her wonder if there was not more he sought. Like Aranck, his eyes are met with the mask of indifference, the elegant arch of her neck tucking the dished profile of her muzzle close to her breast. A viper ready to strike back.

Yet he does not sting her. Where once before his gaze had been haughty and knowing, now his eyes met her with a hunger that threatened to bring her ears forward in interest. Deep inside, the creature perked forward, sitting elegantly with its tail flicking idly back and forth and golden eyes watchful. His words bring a snort of derision to her lips. Her own unusually long silver white tail snaps audibly in the thin air behind her as a single forelimb tears at the supple green earth beneath her. �Trinket� surely you jest Cullen. I am far more than any of these wet behind the ears foals that you call brothers.� she snaps, her voice sharp as she tilts her head towards the sleeping filly with a malicious grin. �Even my daughter is more fearsome than this bunch of stray dogs.� she finishes taking a daring step towards him, bringing her muzzle only a mere inches from his own.

He continues and her ears relax, small ash dusted muzzle lifts reaching out to tug a straying strand of his own alabaster mane. A single brow arches as her curiosity peaks, she continues, her lips parting to allow blunt teeth to pinch the skin of his muzzle. �You made it clear your disdain for me was as equal as mine for you. Dare it be that you finally find yourself longing for the company of a seductress?� she asks her tones tinted with laughter as she curls her sleek frame against his own, savoring the tingling sensation of his battle scarred hide of gold. He suggests that they have much in common, a fact that she herself found upon her own mind more often than not as the days passed. Ambition. Conquer. Victor. Power. Admiration. Hand in hand they all went together. She had gained her first tastes of it when the near constant battle with Ysabel provided her victory. However it was short lived. Bjorn left them, left the Ridge and her hard work was for naught. Then Siobhan was there. Without lifting a hoof the damned red mare had been given leadership and authority that Nyimara worked through sweat and blood to gain. Siobhan had stolen Bjorn�s affections and attentions when it should have only revolved around Nyimara. The years of pain and suffering that Nyimara would ever be able to instill within the red woman would never amount to the same pain and hurt that twisted inside her soul like a festering wound. Nyimara had waited for Bjorn, had borne him a healthy heir and beautiful daughters and yet still Siobhan had his love. Tucked beneath Allil her golden lover, still she had his love. Hatred burned in her. Hatred for Ysabel who dared still to defy her. Hatred for Siobhan Hatred for Solomon who let his judgement of her be colored by the toxic words of Ysabel. Hatred for Aranck who gifted her queenship of the Arch but jerked it away so easily with his lack of concern for her. He saw her as a means to his own end, but though she had fought desperately to make her name known, he had not worked hard to defend it. Grant it, the small daughter at her side was worth his hassle, but still Nyimara wanted to feel her teeth in his flesh. Likewise, Cullen deserved her wrath. He who had dared to steal away her son and expose him to the cruelties of the world far before she was ready for him to see it. Cullen was the one who dared to try and steal her away time and again, and finally she had been dropped as a burden at his doorstep. A gift to keep the beast at bay. Solomon would learn what it was to anger the silver haired witch as she had so often been called as of late.

He asks what it is she desires. Asks what would content her and Nyimara doubts that ever did there exist any one thing that might bring about her contentment. Like Aranck, the proposition he offered her had the chance to be short lived� but it would not last long. A sinister smile curves her lips upwards as long lashes blink slowly over dark amber eyes. �I want to see them burn in the wake of my power.� she murmurs, her honey sweet voice tainted by venom. Cullen had potential. Just as Bjorn had potential and Aranck. Only time would tell if it was worth it in the end.

�And if you lose?...� the question lingers in the small space that separates them. A single ear tilts forward as one dark brow arches. �What is your plan then? Will you roll over and admit defeat?�

Nyimara

♥dante

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Lagoon

The Boss

The Marauder

The General

The Companions

The Thieves

The Associates

The Soldiers

The Trinkets

Boss's Decree

The Offspring

Rules