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
:: The Shadowed Ghost ::
IP: 124.171.26.7

I am your darkness, I am your desire, I am your nightmare wrapped up in fire


She swings her treasure with glee, like an excited dog with a new toy to chew, flinging it from side to side before allowing it to clatter back to the earthen floor and stone of the rocky shore. The bone lays motionless, taunting her with it’s lack of motion, the girl-child releasing a bark of command at the deadened thing before white lips pull back in a snarl, the black masked girl plunging forward once more to send the bone flying before the ungainly, yet well-formed young girl moves after it. Play is allowed, this she knows, Large White and Large Black never forbid such a thing so long as she does not engage them when they wish not to be engaged, her young mind readily caught within this game of her making, a release for her energy and desire to hunt and feed. For now she is content, her mind consumed and freed of her need to consume, the feral, wild girl enraptured in these moments, unaware of the white male whom lingers nearby, her confident assurance leading her only closer and closer still until it is Tesseract emerges and the girl of shadow and white and red is given to pause, head and tail high, stiff, alert, aware of him now before he appears, watching with bloodied red eyes that glow within the black mask of her face.

The barest hint of a growl rises within her throat, though it is not a sound of aggression, more so it is a sound of curiosity, her form stiff, wary at his approach for she has learned this of males. They are…unpredictable. His position and form exceeds dominance and yet the looseness in his walk holds notes of play. He is read so easily in this manner, so readily and without the need for words, for Riven needs no such things. She is born of the world, born of parents whom utter no sound but that which nature intended and indeed, while capable in some regards the girl is readily versed in the law of nature. He is larger, taller, older and more powerful then she, he commands dominance and yet it is not a demand. He comes in play and in turn his advance is met readily, her own ears folding back slightly in submission, form retreating a pace or two before her tail waves in some show of good nature- at least for now. Riven is a dominant force and will continue to grow as such, each year will see her grow only more assertive in herself, yet for now his command in un-argued as she prances boldly forward, head stretching up to snatch the end of the bone he chews in an effort to pull it from him, young teeth fastening to the end before lunging away, seeking to rip it so sneakily from him as she pulls and tugs, growls and snarls of play erupted from the leggy yearling, head shaking in sudden force from side to side in the same manner in which one would tear flesh free from a kill. She is not a girl raised to pack. She is born and bred within the wilds, fed upon the flesh of others and indeed perhaps this has added to her surprising strength and skilful movement. She is not as other children and though she plays there is indeed a seriousness to it.

Another growl of play erupts as she seeks to tear it from him once more, young muscle twisting and coiling in youthful exuberance in this game of tug, the girl seemingly believing she is capable of winning and though surely it is not today, perhaps one day- she will be.





RIVEN
1 Year || Mate to None || Imprint of None || Tobias x Flare



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