THE PRAIRIE LIR head
KVASIR guardians RESIDENTS the adults
CHILDREN the little ones
GUIDELINES common sense, really i. the Prairie stands as a symbol of peace and prosperity among the islands ii. anyone is welcome to live here so long as they do not bring harm to the Prairie or any of it's residents iii. 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 iv. 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 v. 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 |
Posted on April 18, 2025 at 09:13:46 PM by Lir
The sable stallion took in the blue roan female with a warm gaze. She, too, was smiling in his direction. A moment later, her cocoa eyes fell away from him before casting out across the landscape. He took in the honest and quiet eagerness of her expression with a renewed sense of purpose.
The Prairie could --and had in the past-- meant much to so many. Its many miles had housed numerous members and refugees over the years. The constance and compassion of Zevulun was practically legend, or Lir at least idealized it to be. Ever present was his drive to emulate his foster father's steady beneficence, to be the constant force of goodwill on an island chain fraught with danger and upheaval.
Lir strode forward. His pace a casual walk forward, dried heather grass whispering against pale canons as they carried him on. Their path, should she truly decide to stay on with him, would wind deeper into the Prairie from here. The hills beyond this plain would give way to hillocks of coneflowers and sweetgrass. Somewhere beyond, the rest of the herd likely waited. “Tell me, Birdy,” the stallion beseeched, attempting to make conversation as they walked, "Have you always live on the islands?"
The Prairie could --and had in the past-- meant much to so many. Its many miles had housed numerous members and refugees over the years. The constance and compassion of Zevulun was practically legend, or Lir at least idealized it to be. Ever present was his drive to emulate his foster father's steady beneficence, to be the constant force of goodwill on an island chain fraught with danger and upheaval.
Lir strode forward. His pace a casual walk forward, dried heather grass whispering against pale canons as they carried him on. Their path, should she truly decide to stay on with him, would wind deeper into the Prairie from here. The hills beyond this plain would give way to hillocks of coneflowers and sweetgrass. Somewhere beyond, the rest of the herd likely waited. “Tell me, Birdy,” the stallion beseeched, attempting to make conversation as they walked, "Have you always live on the islands?"
Lir
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