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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DON'T BLINK [fate]
IP: 99.110.144.77


2 years - loveless - soulless - iromar

Glorall was the seaside pack. Why? With both Diveen and Iromar sproting long shorelines, why was it Glorall that was the ocean pack? It was something to think about as the young wolf tread the sodden salt line between Iromar and the seaside lands of Glorall, picking over the roots of the wetland forest which bordered the ocean halfway between both packs.

Diveen, those filthy Angels, their coast was presumably walled with cliffs. He had never been there, nor should he have any desire to visit, but he had heard from others that those self-righteous, white-furred mongrels lived in higher elevation with ravines and cliffs. Things he had never seen, which made the Susil crags look like scratches in the ground. Perhaps it is those high walls which deny them representation as the ocean pack. He wouldn’t complain. Denial of a thing to an Angel, no matter how trivial, was a thing to rejoice over.

But Iromar...

Iromar’s shoreline was nearly as long as Glorall’s. This he had heard from those who had visited before, during the reign of both packs’ previous alphas. As the Mecor Valley fed a river that trailed through their neighbor pack, the Alpos River, a far more impressive passage, cut straight through Iromar. Speaking of the river...

Locke glanced over his shoulder, fur still dripping with diluted saltwater from the river’s mouth. The dark blue of the submerged delta could still be seen from so far down the shore, a shadow spot on the oceanfront. He had, perhaps, wandered a little farther than he had originally planned, but the ebon boy didn’t seem particularly perturbed by this fact. Shaking out his demon’s coat, it’s silky fur an array of wet spikes, he turned back to his path and continued picking over the stretching roots of the lowland forest.

All this thought about the so-called ocean pack; he wanted to see what was so special about a sandy beach. Surely it couldn’t be so preferable to the salt marsh which lined Iromar’s coast, not so much to cause such a reputation. You couldn’t always trust the opinions of other, after all. He certainly didn’t.

male - 40 inches - 145 lbs
LOCKE
Don't blink. Blink and you're dead.


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