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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you don't need wings to be an angel
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you don't need wings to be an angel



The white fae trotted through the undergrowth, muzzle curled up, teeth showing in what appeared to be a snarl of sorts. This new land annoyed her; she was no longer camouflaged as the snow melted, and the ground was soft and gave way easily under her feet. The mud annoyed her too; it splashed up her legs and sullied her pristine white coat. She did not consider herself a vain wolf; she had never before had a reason to worry about appearances. Having had an arranged mate, her future was set. And she was not an unattractive femme; in fact, she had almost been considered a beauty in her forested home. Lean, relatively tall and built for speed and agility, her white-and-pale grey frame was found attractive by many males, despite the fact that she lacked the 'feminine' curves seemingly desired by the masculine half of the lupine population.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a deep howl. She lifted her head, ears now pricked. The intonations of the howl, the slight lilt; it was unlike any she had heard in Moladion. But yet it was familiar to her. She turned in the direction of the source, speeding to a faster trot, then a lope. Her long legs ate up the ground, carrying her faster and faster across the grassland. It didn't take her long to spot the wolf making the melody. She slowed back to a trot, then a walk. He had the stocky build of the fjell-folk; the short body and wide shoulders characteristic of those who lived in the mountains. She took a few moments to weigh him up; although he seemed stronger than Valkyrie, he didn't look as fast as she was, so if he was a threat she could escape.

Once again the white fae trotted forward, up the rise. She smiled welcomingly at the brute, tail held confidently high, but not so high as to be considered a challenge. "Hallo bror," she greeted him, "jeg heter Valkyrie. Hva heter du?" Her northern accent had faded slightly; she had been travelling for so long that it had softened from lack of use. That may however have been a good thing; the accent of the North was often difficult to understand.

V A L K Y R I E
|| fae || young adult || love || home || heirs || rank ||
|| Warrior Angel ||




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