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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you look happy to meet me [open]
IP: 64.134.102.99
Posted on September 21, 2014 at 03:49:29 AM by Delya


If there’s one thing Delya gets, it’s the absence of a father figure. Maybe that’s why she’s so wild. Though the child has the luxury of being able to say she was never abused, she understands just wishing someone would be there. Much of her childhood had been spent alone, looking for someone to help her pass the time. Maybe that was why her first five years had seemed so long. Maybe that’s why she longed to please Iblis so—she wanted someone to appreciate her. She wanted someone, dare she say it, to love her. It was a different kind, though.

The Technicolor dreamer didn’t long for the love of someone in the romantic sense. Honestly, Delya didn’t want it—if it happened, it happened, but maybe she’d even try to stop it. No, she wanted someone to appreciate her. She wanted someone to want her, to want to teach her, to want to be taught by her. Though Delya may come off as a bit headstrong, a bit high strung, however you wanted to phrase that particular bit of the English language that went over her head (she was still very much Russian at heart) she had something about her. If she knew better, she’d call it a hunger. That’s what drove her. That’s what drove her to everything she would ever accomplish, and she knew that.

Today was awfully cold, but she was going to spend it by the river. This was, in Delya’s mind, her river. The river that had done just about as much raising as her own fathers. Alice had frequented the Valley, and Delya had frequented the Riverside. Though they always came back together, the Technicolor dreamer knew every inch of this landscape for every season. Thankfully, most of winter’s snow had melted off. Cold, though. How she disliked the cold. It reminded her of just how thin she was. No matter what Delya tried to do, she never gained weight. Gaunt. Terribly, horrifyingly gaunt if you parted her fur. Thankfully no one got close enough for that—that would be awful.

She doesn’t like touch, so she avoids it. It’s as simple as that, and really nothing anyone can care to do about it. If need be, Delya would simply outrun them. If put to it, the girl would probably be able to boast that she was the fastest runner in all the lands. Maybe one day she would, but today was a day for making sure that her riverside was still the way she’d left it. The girl could walk these grounds with her eyes closed and still know exactly where she was. Confidence rolled off her thin frame in waves, and she was proud and graceful.

The riverside. Her riverside. It’s nice to be home, for once. Tail wagging, settling down in one of the little hollows in the grass to watch the river roll by. How lucky a girl could she be?
delya
hound’s
tarquin x makism x hush




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