The Lost Islands
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my neck is open wide, begging for a fist around it


ALREADY CHOKING ON MY PRIDE

so there's no use crying about it

When Mariael met Fell at the border between the Arch and the Bay (accidentally, despite the fact she was searching for him along with Suleiman) she hadn’t intended for the situation to immediately escalate into something physical. Their fight was more a spar than anything, something that said this was the language they could both speak and understand well. Mariael had always loved to fight and had trouble holding her blows, but found the ink-black stallion didn’t need or want her to. For any strike she dealt with a little more force, he answered her back the same.

On the surface it was nothing more than a feisty spar between neighbors, but layers tangled in the cobwebs underneath. Mariael had too much pent up energy from first seeing Zevulun, to learning her sister lived here in the Bay, to walking from the Arch to here with the intent to see Maziel again. This was a good way to express it. This was easier than a diplomatic conversation.

It wasn’t just about expelling excess energy. When it became apparent that Fell would hit hard when hit hard, it became something else. A way for Mariael to remind him, to show him of the strength of his neighbors, in case the wandering eye he was rumored to have should ever turn toward the Arch, thinking a closer prize might be an easier one; a way, too, to tell him of her prowess in battle in case her request to take Maziel back to the Arch was met with hostility.

In the end they stood apart, Mariael having half-circled back in a slow circle, blowing plumes of white from her pale, flared nostrils and her blue eyes gleaming. If it were any other day, that may have been it, or maybe they would have walked along their shared home border together before parting… but not today.

“My sister Maziel is living with you.” Mariael said once her voice could be level and she didn’t need to suck air sharply into her lungs. Though she only saw his gold and white body in her peripherals, having Suleiman there with her, in support of her, kept her racing heart in check. “Can you take me to see her?” She asked, and felt a nervous shiver try and brush down her spine. She thought again of the fearful question she’d asked Suleiman, then remembered his answer and blew a low, slow breath, calming herself as the memory of his words echoed in her mind.

THE FALLEN QUEEN
nephilim x hollowshank; cremello tobiano


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