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

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Posted on October 14, 2014 at 04:37:54 AM by riopat

When does missing a wolf turn into an obsession? Is it odd that with the coming of fall, the young female makes a den three times larger than what she alone needs? Riopat is driven by instinct to make a winter den, within the trees of her island home, needing something to break the wind when she was not working on this pack member or that. Making her rounds without the wolf of her heart made it hard to go quick, despite the fact that a wolf is technically handing you the life of their children and themselves. Hard only because I was supposed to need that kind of attention, and he was supposed to...

Choking became second nature as she once again coughs past tears, the lump in her throat large enough to stop airflow to her lungs. The palm tree that lays across her den barely budges as her head smacks against it, white ears pricked up so severely that her forehead cramps as an all too familiar howl breaks across the beach and into the trees. Standing there, half out of the den and half in, she listens to that voice and prays that she has not lost her mind completely. The imaginings of a tired mind, she thinks, her body still making free of the entrance and moving toward the singer of her heartbeat.

She flies toward him, though when he finally comes to view, she halts dead in the middle of her stride. Shock filters coolly through her frame, anger simmers at the back of her throat, but overwhelming love floods them all out on a tide of red and all consuming black. She breaks, cries, her voice once more choked out on a heart-rending sob so full of joy and relief one could not walk away. "You came back...You're really here? I'm not crazy!?" With a soft whimper, her delicate muzzle reaches out to brush against his cheek, then into his neck where she lets out a peel of crying hysterical laughter. "I thought you left too, I couldn't bare it, I've been so lost Mortz...I thought...I would never see you again, that..." Another whine and she is unable to continue her little rant at him, her body curling against his front like she dared not separate again from him. Her muscles quivered with her sobs, dark eyes glossy and wide, catching the light to show off those bright green slivers within the see of navy. Her gaze seeks his out, and she says the one thing she has always been too scared to admit. "I love you, Mortz. Please don't leave again...please..." She presses against him, ready to fully listen to what his reasons were, but wanting him to promise her not to do what he did again. She felt foolish for thinking he would leave her, he never left her, not really. He was her only constant, just as Glorall was the only solid ground. He would always be there, and this just proved it.

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