The Lost Islands
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Hold your breath;





XIOMARA

SKULL FACED WARRIORESS OF THE COVE

Don’t ever come back.


The words echo in Xiomara’s mind as if she had only just yelled them yesterday. They seem so fresh, so new in comparison to the stale scent of Bjorn upon the wind. The Icelandic stallion was seemingly gone, but Xiomara did not know if it was for certain or not. The stallion had disappeared before, the very reason she had shouted those words at him when she had banished him from the Shore. The blue roan mare had not thought of the consequences she might face when she returned to Tinuvel, where he had claimed to call home.


Now, as the daughter of Solomon currently reigned over the Inlet, Xiomara did not have so many misgivings upon crossing the border. Part of her had wanted to anyways, to rub it in Bjorn’s face that had had not been able to get rid of her so easily as he had by simply leaving the Shore. But peace was held over the entirety of Tinuvel by Solomon’s rule, and she wasn’t going to jeopardize that. Even if she wanted to punish him for appearing too relaxed beneath his crown.


As Xiomara stepped over the invisible line that separated the Cove from the Inlet, the mare was bombarded with so many memories. It had been the first place she had claimed, the first place she had felt anything, and the first place she had been cast aside from. Somehow, among all the memories that shrouded her, Xiomara continued to walk with confident steps along a path that had grown covered with vegetation. No one had traveled it in a very long time. No scents, no tracks; only the feel of limbs trailing along her back and upon her sides to keep her company.


When the warrioress stopped, it was so that her blue eyes could gaze upon a cave that a young boy had once taken her too. Ironclad had been so impressed with her then, smitten, enough to stand up to his dam to take her side. What had happened to him? What had happened to any of them? Xiomara had not dared to think about them in so long, and yet their memory burned painfully in the forefront now.


Unable to take it, to hold it in, Xiomara closed her eyes and let out a pain filled scream.





Mutt - Blue Roan - 15.2 hh - Olaf x Xina - Frost



html & art © erin | character © frost





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