Aplos Riverside

Moladion’s powerful, winding river...
Aplos River is a broad, slow-moving river originating from somewhere beneath the mountains of Spirane and feeding Iromar’s moors in the south. The northern parts of the river are known for their strong currents, with the water becoming slow moving in the south. The riverbanks vary along its course, ranging from soft hummock grasses to small groups of pine, and sometimes nothing but pebbles and sand. Crossing can be difficult at times, but it can be swam or bridged by fallen trees or boulders alike.

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Why Am I So Dead Awake?
IP: 74.232.80.16
Posted on January 28, 2013 at 07:20:24 AM by NATALYA

Why am I so Dead Awake?
Looking for answers why
It's so real, it's not fake


I stand in the tall grasses of the ridge, watching the wolves below, profiling if you will. I have come to understand very few things about the motivations of living, I know only my own and Devil's reason for it. I have a renewed purpose, an old calling I suppose you could say. I have hollowed myself out to make sure I feel nothing worth mentioning. My emotions, while intact, have been pushed down and shoved to the back of my mind. I do not care that Devil is with Kiska any longer, good for them, in fact. Perhaps, I should send them a belated gift. I smirk at my own dark humor, much like putting a horse's head in their bed. Nearly chuckling out loud, I make my way into the bottom part of the crater, walking the river's edge as I go along. My skin prickles with awareness just before a flash of white streaks by a few meters ahead of me. I am momentarily stunned, and confused. He hides in the grasses, almost as if he fears being seen. Then it hits me, like a punch to the gut I smell the metallic tang of blood on the air.

Normally, I would not care, I would not address such a terrified creature, but something told me to. I move over to him, silently moving into the grass beside him, lapping at the water as he stares at himself. The gashes on his face bleed freely, and now I understand the urgency. My dark pelt makes it difficult to stay cool, but at the rate he is panting, he seems to have been running a marathon. Where's the fire, wolf? I ask him, regarding him with a rather "concerned" look. My yellow eyes move over his form, appraising him as it were, judging by the gashes on his face and the way he kept to shadow. He seems as if he is afraid, or perhaps simply skittish of others. I must say, my interest is thoroughly captivated, well done wolf.

And why am I so dead awake
Please just one more time
Natalya
female♦thirteen♦bound to Devil May Cry♦tied to no wolf♦loner
Pic Credit to infernosilver on Deviantart.com


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