Susil Crags

Disaster has struck!
The Crags are a series of rocky formations with small caves and crevices throughout. Many of the lower-lying areas of the Crags have been flooded, however, with water pouring in from the Northern stretches of Moladion. Some paths have been completely submerged, and some are nothing more than a few rocky peaks sticking out of the water. The water is fairly slow moving but begins to pick speed up towards the Grotto, becoming a series of intense rapids and waterfalls as it nears the Grotto's entrance.

The area itself is still traversible. However, it can be risky. Large amounts of debris can enter the waterway, creating bridges at times but also creating dams that break and cause ocassional flash-flooding. Be careful, travelers! One wrong step and you could end up finding out where the water goes.

Note: Susil Crags will return to normal once 25 posts have been completed (or at Staff discretion). During this time, new threads will receive a 'Surprise','Disaster', and prizes.

Return to Lunar Children

the lonely one refuses to die
IP: 71.192.221.44

He'd missed her, though he didn't think of her as much as he would have liked. Wren was bad at that-- thinking. WIth the lack of the words in his head, the lack of really important things, he thought differently. It wasn't Iophiel's name or words that stuck in his head... no, it was the way he felt in his chest when she had treated him like someone who wasn't wierd and the way she smelled. Those were the things. That meant he had lied to himself, because he did think of her. He'd thought of her more or less, less or more, and lied to himself the entire time. Typical.

She was strange, that much had stuck in his head for a long while. Strange in the best way, and he appreciated it. Strange in the way that Dexter wasn't. It was Dexter that filled his head today, though, as he allowed time to pass around his shoulders. So much time had passed, and the day trudged on toward night, stars starting to fleck the sky. Oops. He'd wasted the whole day thinking, so that probably wasn't a waste. Damn, he was good at lying to himself. Wren could teach people how to do that-- don't let the accidental sardonic tendnecies get in the way. Maybe it was a good thing he couldn't talk.

But yeah. Dexter. Talk about feeling some sorta way, because that boy made him feel so-- fuck. That something that he'd cut himself off from was so not the right thing to be feeling, especially about the alpha's son. Fuck him sideways, he was going to get his furry little bum in so much trouble. Did boys even like boys like that? Was that a thing he was allowed to feel? He'd felt that way about a girl too, so it was probably alright. Yeah. It would be fine. Things always had a way of turning out just fine.

The voice that yanked him from the inner monologue was one that could have pushed him from his seat on the rocky pedestal if it wanted. Wren stumbled to his feet, peering down at-- holy shit. Her. His tail wagged, and he quickly scrambled down from the rocky perch. Yes, this feeling that makes him feel all strange and bothered and clumsy. They'd been friends when they were children and now she was back and things were different and-- ow. Ow his head. So many quick feelings all at once, and Wren could barely keep track.

He settles for a bow directly in front of the probably-no-longer girl. That was acceptable, right? Familiar, but formal enough. There was no way of telling the things that she could feel too.

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