Susil Crags

Disaster has struck!
The Crags are a series of rocky formations with small caves and crevices throughout. Many of the lower-lying areas of the Crags have been flooded, however, with water pouring in from the Northern stretches of Moladion. Some paths have been completely submerged, and some are nothing more than a few rocky peaks sticking out of the water. The water is fairly slow moving but begins to pick speed up towards the Grotto, becoming a series of intense rapids and waterfalls as it nears the Grotto's entrance.

The area itself is still traversible. However, it can be risky. Large amounts of debris can enter the waterway, creating bridges at times but also creating dams that break and cause ocassional flash-flooding. Be careful, travelers! One wrong step and you could end up finding out where the water goes.

Note: Susil Crags will return to normal once 25 posts have been completed (or at Staff discretion). During this time, new threads will receive a 'Surprise','Disaster', and prizes.

Return to Lunar Children

To Think I Might Not See those Eyes -Hawthorn-
IP: 74.124.77.170

To Think I Might Not See Those Eyes
Makes it So Hard Not to Cry


Since the Great Cataclysm I'd been cast adrift. Separated from my Pack and my imprint and forever changed from the impact of witnessing Asa's death as we fought to escape the disaster.

He'd saved me. And every night his face haunted my dreams. Fire licking through the listless hours in a nightmarish maelstrom until it became intolerable for me to sleep at all. My amethyst eyes were rimmed red with insomnia. I wandered as a lone nomad for months, my yearling frame becoming gaunt and sallow when game became scarce during the nuclear winter that followed the epic tragedy. I was sure I was going to die, covered in ash with singed fur... but I was determined to continue through to the bitter end. I had to find someone. But in my delirium I'd forgotten who that was.

It was about that time that the band of gypsies lead by Pompeii and Hawthorn had run across me scavenging off of the scraps of an emaciated elk's carcass. The beast itself had been so thin there was hardly any meat to be gleaned from the kill and I'd resorted to cracking the bone to suck out the marrow inside. The gypsies (with much coaxing for I'd become a very reclusive creature in my solitude) took me in.

Integrating into their band had been good, and for the first time in ages I felt the pangs of loneliness stave off some. Hunting alongside them, I was able to replenish my lost energy... my bodice filling back out into a more shapely feminine figure so that now as a three year old, I looked healthy and strong again. My frame streamlined and graceful like my mother's had always been. But as much as I enjoyed the company of the gypsies... still felt a distinction between myself and they. I was not a born gypsy as they had been, though my heart had always been prone to wanderlust. From the time I was born, I had always followed the Will O' The Wisp. Mother even once said I harbored an old gypsy soul. And maybe she was right.

But I felt as though they still looked on me with the eyes of a stranger. And as a stranger, I felt myself watching them as if through a window. Seeing but never truly apart.

I liked them well enough though. Pompeii was a smart female and I could tell she had a kind heart. And Hawthorn was a Healer. Just like my Shaman mother. I never mentioned that I was the daughter of a Shamaness. My mother always told me that once a Shaman takes and Oath they were forbidden to take mates or bear children... that they were incapable of such a feat. She'd said that my brothers and I were special, because the Great Spirit had Blessed her and her Imprint and because of this we were born. She used to say we were destined for great things.

So much for that fairytale.

All I did was bring disaster down upon all those who got close to me. Like my uncle and Asa. Where I lead, trouble followed. It was a fact... I wasn't a miracle or a good luck charm or a blessing. I was a Curse, and because of that I kept an arm's length between myself and everyone else. I couldn't be responsible for anyone else's strife. Never again.

I wove through the forests along the western end of the crater. Wandering through a world so familiar and yet so unrecognizeable. I could see the auras of the trees, dim but clearly there as their leaves whispered to the trade-winds that caressed their branches like a philandering lover. I recognized the voices just as the soles of my paws remembered the vibrations that thrummed through the soil and up into my Soul. I knew this Earth. And yet I did not.

It was such a vexing and surreal moment, and I find myself treading carefully. Whispering like a wraith so as not to disturb the ghosts who still linger in the decrepit and overgrown ruins.

Amethyst eyes stare out across the landscape with a half-glazed and wistful expression. Seeing without really seeing. Suddenly a chirrup of sound catches my attention and pulls me from my reverie. I glance to a nearby sapling where a small black and blue Stellar's Jay is perched. It's Blue. I'd saved the bird from death nearly a year ago when I found it with a broken wing. When the wing had healed the small creature had continued to stick around and was pretty much my only true companion.

Blue cocked his head, blinking his beady eyes and signalling with a flick of his tail feathers. Someone was close by. I tilted back mask platinum cameo, raspberry nares scenting the air and detecting the cologne of a male.

Hawthorn.

I meandered at a languid stroll in his direction, until I spotted the light tawny colored male in a small clearing. I hadn't spent much time in his presence, and wondered how the Gypsy must have felt returning to Moladian. We all had something or someone to miss here. But I think perhaps the blow had been easier for the other nomads then it had been for me.

I chuffed out a soft sound. Sterling lyric offering up a gentle salutations. "Hello..." Long willowy stockings of pale silver glide loftily towards him, drifting to a halt a few meters away.

"Does it feel as strange to be here for you as it does for me....?" I speak the words almost wistfully, amethyst eyes illuminating with a somber undertone as obsidian plume painted with a skunk's white racing stripes gives an idle flick of mild curiosity.


Gypsy Rose * Black Magic Woman * 3 Years Wandering * Cast A Spell On Jehu * Mesmerized by None



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