The Lost Islands
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Meadow

Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.

pull me close and twist the knife

🗡

The plan hatched to peruse the nearby orchard came to quick halt after she'd gone no more than a few strides. The trees and shadows where the sabino had meant to leave the filly had hidden her from the view of others, just as it had obscured passersby from her line of sight. 'They're so peaceful when they're sleeping,' came the thrum of his voice. Vvanderfell's dark eyes were on him in the same instant that her forward motion abruptly ceased.

He'd spoken with an easy candor, but the female watched every inch of him anyway. The hue of his coat was unlike what Vvanderfell had seen before: a patchwork of grey, brown, and white. She had long observed the native Islanders to be quite colorful. Yet, this male was striking to a further degree. Despite her initial attraction to the chimeric stranger, the sabino retained the stiff posture of an affronted mother.

"No," was the blunt response she gave. Dark eyes flicked to where the filly lay quietly. Polaris was so wildly different in looks and mind than Chaol, the boy who had come before. At the thought of the champagne colt, the lines of the sabino's face hardened in the suppression of her grief. "She's my fourth." The mare only mused a moment longer before flicking her eyes back to the grown male at hand. Her voice was a cool, if not incredulous, cordiality. A knife lingered below her intoned conversation: a tone that promised punishment should he further approach the child.

"Are you an involved father then?"

Vvanderfell
v

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