Glorall

Disaster has struck!
Flooding from the north has taken its toll on Glorall. The large tides combined with the increase in water draining from the Ruieze River has flooded the lower regions of the pack. The sandy soil, compounded with so much water, has toppled a lot of trees. Traveling is difficult even when the water is shallower, with the sandy soil below being difficult to find traction on. The daily tides seem to keep the level of flooding fairly consistent, too.

During the low tide, wolves may be able to move around the higher dunes (with some difficulty) but during high tide, the pack is almost impossible to safely navigate. Swimming is possible, but the risk of currants and surges from either the ocean or the river are very real. The island off of the coast of Glorall is untouched by either issue, although it is incredibly difficult to find your way there without being an adept swimmer with plenty of good luck!

Note: Glorall will reopen once 30 posts have been completed (or at Staff discretion). During this time, new threads will receive a 'Surprise','Disaster', and prizes. Glorall is currently not open for challenges.


THE HERE AND NOWALPHA OF GLORALL
Elohim

Return to Lunar Children
my name is blue canary
IP: 71.192.221.44
Posted on September 13, 2013 at 02:07:11 AM by salem


Salem is used to being the ghost of things past. She was the ghost of Glorall past, after all. The ghost of the place that she’d been so fond of, the ghost of a place that had moved on without her, it seemed. Here she was, stuck in the past. The thing about Salem was that she was always stuck. Seeming to be in a rut, a constant rut. She couldn’t think of really… much of anything at all. The girl couldn’t think so clearly, not nearly as clearly as she should. She’s a ghost, after all. A ghost that simply drifts. She’d been good at drifting around the edges, not making much of a fuss or a muss.

It was when she saw the creature that she sorta… stalled. She’d been wandering the borders, eyes keen for something… anything. Salem was used to being on her own. It’s why she was here, it’s why she was on high alert as she was. It’s a brilliant thing, being so utterly alert most of the time. The creature, the ghostly creature, needed something that would keep her loud mind busy. It was always easier to think busy, be busy. Always busy. Always moving. Yes, that was her need. It was as vital as food and water—mental exercise.

But she sees him, and she stops. Her expression is bizarre, head cocking to the side. “Who’re you?” The young woman makes her way closer to the creature, unsure of a threat or… a friend. A friend would be weird, especially from the weird silvery man. She’s almost childlike in her curiosity, eyes sparkling lowly… curiosity from the pale beast. So pale, so bizarre… and he’s pale and bizarre too. The creature’s tail swishes, and another few steps find her feet. Salem can’t help her curiosity. She can’t fight it, not any more. She’s sick of fighting it.



salem.
my name is blue canary
by hound help from russ




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