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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my name is blue canary
IP: 71.192.221.44


She doesn’t believe in love. Salem has seen the things that imprinting does—she’s watched Weylin and Selene when they don’t think anyone can see them. They sicken her. Something about it… it’s not what she wants. Imprinting was something foul, something to be rejected. It took away basic freedoms and it drove her nearly mad. Salem wouldn’t have any of it. She wouldn’t reach out and touch it with feeling hands because she didn’t want it. She wanted her freedoms intact, thank you very much. She didn’t want to be attached to anything. Hell, she’d never even had a family. Cut her a break.

Salem doesn’t fear Tobias. There’s something here that clicks, and she doesn’t like that. The creature doesn’t click like this. It’s not supposed to be like this. You’re supposed to have to work for interpersonal relationships, you’re supposed to have to work on the fact that others may or may not like you. It wasn’t supposed to click. Here was where things got interesting, she supposed. Salem had worked for her trust with Pan, she’d worked for her favor with Weylin. She didn’t want to have something handed to her.

Then again, it was clear this wasn’t going to be easy. Salem only wanted out. The dark creature, though, was circling. Never once did the ghost let her shadow move behind her. It would be a stupid move to let the creature behind her, as he appeared to have death in his eyes. The creature doesn’t want Tobias too close. She doesn’t want to deal with the sandstorm in her head. A soft growl sits on her dark lips, her pale eyes glimmering lowly. It’s all low light, it’s all something that she doesn’t want to deal with. Salem quivers.

“You look like you’re going to eat me alive. Why would I?” Yet Salem creeps closer, defensive position. Maybe she shouldn’t come closer, but Salem is drawn in. She doesn’t come too close, yet she draws forward. The ghost’s heart pounds in her chest, blood rushing in her ears. What the hell happens next? Yet she doesn’t fear Tobias.
keep the nightlight on
hound’s
inside the birdhouse in your soul





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