and no one cares; there's no one there - " />
The Lost Islands
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HEAD OF THE PRAIRIE
zevulun
SECONDARY THIRD
castillon lir
GUARDIANS
jasper, micah, thames, lohan
 
RESIDENTS OF THE PRAIRIE
hirka, eira, aura
 eirena, frond, aurelie, luna
mage, daire, vervain, claret
lior, hael, atropa belladonna
vernonia		 name, name, name
 
CHILDREN OF THE PRAIRIE
eriana, name, name
 *odette, eudora, *dolores
adira		 name, name, name
 
ALLIES
ENEMIES
rafe (badlands)
evrain (hills)
sephiroth (thicket)
bacardi (forest)
mariael (arch)
tyr & oswin (ridge)
none
 
GUIDELINES

- the Prairie stands as a symbol of peace and prosperity among the islands
- anyone is welcome to live here so long as they do not bring harm to the Prairie or any of it's residents
- adventure and exploration is not only allowed, but encouraged! residents are asked to use their better judgement and not travel to places that could bring them harm
- the head of the prairie has final say in all prairie matters. the secondary and third positions are not able to be challenged for and are selected by the head
- the guardians take on a more active role in the prairie; they must protect the inhabitants of the prairie and go on patrols of the prairie borderlines and shore. they can welcome strangers to the prairie and invite anyone to live here, though they must inform one of the leaders of any newcomers or visitors
and no one cares; there's no one there
Posted on February 2, 2024 at 03:28:28 AM by Aura


Aura


Gently do I hear Castillon hushing me. It is a soft sound with a tone that normally would make me bristle at having been discovered. Something in his voice though looses something stitched up in my chest. As I cry, I feel the first two touches from him, and I choose not to move away. They are featherlight gestures: lips brushing away my tears, his breath warming my face. I try to steady myself and cannot until the shape of him presses into my side.

Physically feeling him, someone live and warm and breathing, here and touching me is a balm to my frayed mind. It begins to ground me, but it does not stop my tears or keep me on my hooves. If anything, the sense of his strength gave me a way to let go. I let myself lean into him, the curves of my body nestling into his, and we ease together to the ground. I don't try to wonder how we got there. Then, I tuck what I can of my face to his neck or beneath his head, any position that somehow bring him closer.

I rest there a moment, the gold of him providing solace to the blackness of my grief. My crying softens some over the next few minutes until it only my breath and not my ribs in hitches. The tears are still fresh and teeming down my cheeks, but I do not move from him an inch as we lay together. My mouth parts once or twice, not that Castillon could really see that. I have nothing left to swallow to wet my dry throat. Nothing left to try and soothe the disuse of my voice.

For once though, for the first time in over two years, I try anyway. It is no easy task for me. I didn't know how to even make a sound at first; my mouth just opened and closed noiselessly again. The low sound I eventually made was similar to a groan. With my throat tight from years and tears, my voice finally scrapes hoarsely from my mouth in a whisper. Fresh tears stream from my eyes at the sound and the significance of my words, still safely held by the buckskin male:

"I miss my mom."



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