when you're sitting on the throne

So far, Marceline's impression of the Islands was not a good one. She'd seen little of it, but it was so utterly dull that she had nearly no desire to move beyond the confines of the common areas. Not only that, but the speckled woman's encounter with the anonymous stallion at the base of the Peak had not left her with a good impression of the men that might inhabit these islands. She'd not been interested in the pale stallion's attentions to begin with and she'd made it abundantly clear before he'd been able to commit too much to whatever act he was putting on. In typical Marceline fashion, she'd not given him much time to respond before she turned her back on him and left, eager to be out of his company.

Months had passed since that incident, and Marceline grew restless. Never in her life had she been alone this long and she was ill equipped to handle such an extended period of isolation. As days rolled by, she found herself pushing at the borders of the Commons, eager to see what lay beyond the dark and briny horizon. Summer came and went and at last when the weather began to cool, she gathered her courage and plunged herself back into the sea. She kicked and swam until her hooves touched sand and she was on dry land once more.

The island she stumbled upon was nothing like the temperate Crossing. Golden sand and jewel-blue sky stretched out in front of her for miles and miles. 'This place is nothing but sand,' she thought with dismay, the corners of her lips twitching southward. Perhaps there was some hidden jewel here she didn't know about, some oasis that drew horses to live here. Surely no one was crazy enough to call this sand heap home without some good reason?

Holding her head aloft, Marceline marched into the Dunes with an air of confidence, like the wild expanse was hers. There was no sense of certainty in where she was going, but she was determined to get there nonetheless. The scowl on her face deepened as she trekked further and further and was met only by sand, sand, and more sand ― not an oasis in sight. With the sun hot and insistent against her back and nothing to shade her, sweat began to prickle against her brow and neck. An irritated huff escaped her speckled lips. She'd never felt such oppressive heat in her life and combined with a lack of water and shade, her mood was quickly souring.

So much for having a good time.

(( something short and sweet to get us started ;D ))

five. appaloosa-friesian-selle francais.
strawberry roan leopard. sixteeen hand.
no home and no children. by pippa.