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.

Return to Lunar Children

my name is blue canary tobias
IP: 71.192.221.44
Posted on March 27, 2013 at 02:34:57 PM by salem


She’d had a place, and now what of it? The creature didn’t know how to feel or what to think about the fact everything had changed. That was a lie. She knew just how to feel and what to think—Salem was lost again. Change was the enemy, and here it was, knocking at her door. Weylin had let go his crown to another, and it made Salem’s sides hurt. She wanted what she knew and loved sitting as the jewel and the crown. The man had become another one of her brothers. Now there was someone new sitting at the top. Salem knew that he couldn’t be trusted.

Salem had gone so far as to distance herself from everyone… from everything. Seven and Pan were just sort of cut off, now. The girl felt strangely empty without them, but it was a feeling she held back. She’d stuffed it off into a corner and let it go because she could be on her own for now. She missed them… she ached. Salem had a strange way of aching. There was a ghost inside her, a demon just begging to be let out, a fire that couldn’t be put out—all of it raged on inside her. She just shoved it deeper and deeper away.

The ghost herself isn’t a monster, she’s just… a ghost. Something about Salem pushes herself away, and she’s working on it now. Away from Diveen she slips, shaking her head softly to herself. It’s winter. She’s of Arctic breeding. Out here for a few days, she’d be fine. Salem would always find a way of being fine. Sometimes, though, it seemed that she was little else. Very few things seemed to be entirely okay any more, but that too was something she’d figure out in the end. Hell, in the end what really mattered? It was the meaning of life question coming up again, and that was something she’d push away for as long as possible.

On fleet feet, she made her way to the east. Her gait was strange and choppy, an awkward rolling and tripping sort of thing. Salem shakes just softly, her eyes seemingly far of even as the world rolls beneath her paws. The girl’s pale eyes are bright too—this is what a wild place looks like. This is what something that lights the world, spreading everywhere is supposed to look like. Though this place is capped in snow, it’s not nearly as bleak as her packland is. No, this place is green and brown and alive under the snow. Maybe Salem feels more alive because of it too. It’s trying its best to light up what has gone dark.

So she continues on. Down the embankment of the crater she travels, making her way quickly across the solid ground. Salem isn’t what you’d call graceful, but she gets the job done. Anything she tries now is just something she can’t help keep ahold of… it’s nothing new. No pony tricks today, Salem is barebones as they come. It’s upon the ridge that she rests, taking another moment to survey this place. Maybe it’s okay after all.
keep the nightlight on
hound’s
inside the birdhouse in your soul




Replies:

Post a reply:
Name:
Subject:
Message:
Password To Edit Post:







<-- -->