Ruieze Fields

Open fields and soft grass...
Ruieze stretches far in the midlands of Moladion, laced with streams that feed into Diveen and out of Asteraia at times. The fields are vast, filled with wildflowers and tall, soft grass; trees are sparse, as are rocks, but one can find small shrubs to hide amongst, and the grass itself. To the south of the fields, a Ruieze River widens, and the ground becomes sandy. There is a small, grassy island that can be reached from the banks, with water-birds often congregating on the island rather than the riverbanks.

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the lonely one refuses to die
IP: 209.222.203.130

Wren couldn’t figure out what he was thinking, what he was feeling. Things were just confusing as of late. Seeing Iophiel, meeting Dexter, finding someone who was like him that had no way of telling him her name. There was something intriguing about it, something more than intriguing. Something that brought his head into that whole tailspin thing that was just so incredibly frustrating. Most of the time, Wren confused himself. Tripping over himself. The lonely one couldn’t figure out just what was going on for real. Was what he feeling even real? Was he real? This wasn’t the time for an existential crisis.

What this was a time for, however, was observing a large group. Wren would rather observe from the outside, far, far away from everyone else. This whole big thing was not what he was in for. Not his cup of tea, as was to be expected for the creature that couldn’t speak for himself. He longed for Dexter in situations like this… he longed for Dexter in general. It was turning into something he didn’t want it to, and that alone was enough to make him cringe. Wren just needed that sort of support from another living creature. That would make him whole again. Hopefully.


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