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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I'm beginning to feel like a Dungeon Dragon
IP: 68.231.5.123
Posted on September 9, 2013 at 10:56:26 AM by Jagger


soul bound to none | heart captured by none | warrior of nowhere | no children | loner


This was not going to be pretty. Not at all. For whatever reason, the brawler had decided to go for a run, full speed, in a random direction. Said direction led to the river. And the direction had a hill. So now, the girl was bounding down the hill, the momentum she gained from her run increasing exponentially as gravity took over most of the work. Combine that with the snow cover which she had to jump over to clear the thicker bits, and you had a very weird sight. Black wolf, half running, half flying down a hill. Straight for the river.

Joy.

She gained speed as the ground leveled out, the snow thinning. She hit the icy water with an all mighty splash; tripping over a rock or something and was sent somersaulting end over end through the water until she came to a stop in the middle of it; managing to end sitting up. She spit out the water she'd inevitably collected from her escapades, an unamused expression on her face. "That," She began, spitting out a little minnow that somehow found its way into her mouth, "Did not go well." Understatement, Jagger dear. No matter. She stood, cold water sluicing off her inky coat, revealing the handful of scars that were normally hidden by her fur. Healing wounds, now scabbed over, were interspersed among them, thankfully somehow no torn open from her rather...dramatic entrance. It wasn't as if she didn't like blood or feared the pain, but they were just such a hassle to clean. And she wouldn't, if not for the fact that dried blood began to smell a little funky after the one week period.

She shook herself, her soaked fur laying haphazardly, clinging to her frame. Unlike the male on the banks, she had many scars. The ones now revealed, and the ones that were always on display. Those that were on display were the chunk missing from one of her ears, and the ragged tooth marks on her back leg, looking like something with big teeth tried to tear it from her body. She liked her scars; wore them like merit badges even.





html by ariel




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