At the densest section of the forest, there is a brief clearing where a steady flow of water streams down the slippery stone staircase. The water here is cool and refreshing. Staircase Falls has been rumoured to be the place where reality is met by magic; where peaceful spirits dwell. They are rumoured to have healing powers that are used to help the desperately hurt, though no one has experienced this, except for, perhaps, Kaive.
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Posted on January 30, 2015 at 09:45:40 PM by ROMULUS
At first, no response came to his questioning—and he knew why. He would always know why others faltered now. And he was glad. Romulus was finally able to physically experience the distraught in others. Their flaws in judging people by their looks. Pity, doubt, insecurity. All those things were pushed into his gullet, stuffed down his throat. It choked him like a chain pulled too tight. But he learned to enjoy the disgusting feeling of his bones feeling like they were losing density. The ess did reply moments after he deciphered her pause, and his listened, ears taught and pulled towards her. A loaded rifle. Actually, I… I think I am. Was she breathing okay? The shock of thinking such a thing at this point in time where he had vowed to never give a fuck about any living creature again poured new gunpowder into his weapon of a brain. Is it that obvious? Was this thing a canary for a coal mine? She seemed to be breathing fine now, but there was something about her that… haha, he groaned inwardly at his lack of humor… caught his eye. No, miss. But since these falls run into a more well-known river, it is odd to find a doe without a pack scent upon her hide. Leave it to the water to attract--- others. He felt as if he was talking too much. And he didn’t like it. The kalak shifted uneasily on his elongated stilts. Maned wolves were known for their height—as well as their recent arrival into blossom. Romulus was the son of the daughter of the first kalak here to mark a pack of his own. A grandfather, but also an uncle. The pack history of Cold Summers was long, mysterious, and messed up beyond control. But there in that pack, Romulus had clawed his own marks on the same tree his predecessor had. He had never reached the height of the massive male, but now it didn’t really matter, did it. Romulus pressed against reality again, tempting himself to break a little bit of ice around this… faerie. Romulus. he grumbled, unsure of why he was still sticking around here. What is your own title? It was true—the boy had never been good with words. Though his skill with women of all sorts was exquisite and quite a sight to behold. As soon as he had reached his teen years, he threw himself into bedding females. By his adulthood, he had lost count of how many Valkyries he had mounted. And now, he knew not if any of them had produced any offspring. Not that he cared. And in that way, he was just like his father, a cousin of his victims own father. Bastards learned to live by sheer will. If you couldn’t make it past your teen years, you were weeded out. He waited patiently, though aware of his surroundings in case Eriel came around, for her answer. …  |
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- You're my starlight - By Adrastea January 31, 2015 at 06:00:56 AM
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