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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It pulls at him, the lure of the river is nothing new though as he follows it. His paws dancer along the edge, soul dancing with the power that lay just beneath the surface, the power of his God. Yes, he believes in those that are greater than himself and it is this wisdom that makes him strong and others weak. He knows that there is a place for everything, including himself and that with time all things are possible. Like now, his little wayward lamb has gone missing but he will find her. Graceful head dips, his nostrils just kissing the cool rocks that litter the bedside, lungs filling with the faint scent of her, of his runner. It is old, but not so much so that it is near untraceable, more like a month or so since her dark corsets rubbed against it. Tongue dances out to caress his lips as he processes this information, not at all unaware of the male scent that also lingers. Could she have mated and be with pup?

Such a thought brings forth a growl, one that resonates deep within the crater of his chest, as his teeth slash at the icy surface of snow. It is early morning and the night’s fall still blankets the earth. The image should calm his thundering heart, soothe his raging jealously, and it does but only minutely. He still feels her, still cares for her like it was yesterday when he saw her limping. When she was attacked by that wretched alligator and where was he? He was out fulfilling his duties for his God, searching for a higher divination. He should have been by her side for the fool of a wolf needed him. She was always out trying to prove herself, earning herself a few nice scars in the process, and scaring the River Tryant out of him. Why did he care so much? Well he could pass it off on that in his belief females are meant to be protected and revered as the bearer of young. However, if he was truly honest with himself she, his Jagger, held a special place within his heart and he would not let her go that easily. Thus the reason he was here, to reclaim what was his.

Turning from the river, albeit a tad reluctantly, he begins a gentle stroll northward. He will follow her faded scent where ever it may take him, and River Tryant give him strength should he find another male sharing her den.



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