Ice Mountain

The Ice Mountain is much smaller than Wolf Mountain, yet climbing up it is far more difficult and shouldn't be attempted in winter. Some creatures collect the shiny stones at the peak of this mountain for necklaces.

.:Got a secret, can you keep it?:.
IP: 109.156.246.6

Even in the middle of summer, the mountain still seemed to be devoid of any warmth. It amazed Dorian, really, that this place could be so cold and unwelcoming even when the sun was causing the snow to melt away somewhat. The charcoal grey wolf was convinced that he understood why this Mountain seemed so terrible, even when compared with lands like the Wilderness; everything and everyone that had once drawn him here had disappeared…

So why did the tall wolf insist on returning here?

The answer to this question was quite simple; he returned due to the misguided hope that his reasons for lingering in this territory would one day come back to him. But alas, every time he returned to the cave that his beloved had called home it seemed more desolate. Occasionally, Dorian tried to reach out to the mental link that he and Flo had once shared, but it filled his mind with a peculiar numbness and only succeeded in making his heart grow heavier.

He just didn’t understand it, he and Flo had adored each other; why would she just disappear without saying goodbye to him? He doubted that it had anything to do with another male, oh no; Dorian was quite certain that the black and white wolfess wouldn’t replace him. Neither of them would be suited to anyone else, which must have meant… it must have meant that something had happened to her. Dorian shook his head to rid himself of the thought; that was too painful to even bare thinking about.

He had been wandering down the mountainside for quite some time now, his search proving to be just as fruitless on this occasion as it had every other time. A long sigh escaped from the handsome brute’s maw, “Maybe next time…” he murmured, trying to reassure himself that he would one day be reunited with Flo. As Dorian neared the base of the mountain, a figure came into view, and he paused. So he wasn’t alone out here today, that was interesting; he rarely came across anyone during his time here… Curious, the charcoal grey male approached Aleutia, his lips curling into a charming smile as he neared her. “Good day,” he greeted, his vibrant blue eyes scanning the fey’s form briefly. It wasn’t a noticeable action, for Dorian didn’t stare; such poor manners were beneath him.

The wolf’s banner gave a short wave, and his smooth British accent sounded again; “It’s refreshing to see someone wandering here, I must say; normally it’s completely deserted…” Dorian projected an aura of charisma and confidence that completely masked the fact that he hadn’t had a proper conversation for quite some time.

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