Glaesfaet Sceawere is the name gifted to the mother river that flows through the center of Blossom Forest, bringing life and sustenance to all of the lands. It breaks off in many places, giving birth to smaller streams and estuaries, but the main body flows from the lake high in the north in Dierne Hrof all the way south down through Uyaraut to empty into the ocean. It is a fresh water river, but down through Uyaraut, the salt water does taint it. In places, parts of the river are underground and run through caverns unseen from aboveground.

Water buffalo grace these shores - with plenty of meat, though at a dangerous cost. Many river trout leap upstream daily.

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Hurricane of Mexico


Wolves mate for life
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Wolves mate for life. Hurricane of Mexico was brave. The would be king was strong and fearless, his size daunting, his sharp opticals piercing. However frightening this knight appeared, he seemed not know it, or perhaps he didn't care. Wolves mate for life.

The dark knight took a slow step forward, his dark paws entering the stream absentmindedly. Wolves mate for life. His maw dips down into the water, soft tongue gracing the cool surface and lapping slowly. Wolves mate for life. A hint of a snarl escapes the deranged wolf's lips. Wolves mate for life. Suddenly a full blown snarl rips angrily from his maw. What the hell was wrong with him? And why couldn't he get those god forsaken words out of his maw. The king could feel his mind slipping from him, like grains of sand blundering in the wind.

Suddenly without warning, a scent fills his nostrils, his sharp yellow eyes searching the horizon desperately. Words break the silence, blocking out the white noise the river provided. Hurricane's auditories snap forward, rotating slightly as his head turns, a sort of petite frame, the color of midnight, no. Shes also red. A ebony hued wolfess with the strangest of auburn markings stood before him. She reeked of blood, and some other wolf he had never known.

Sharp ivory canines bare themselves instinctively as she came nearer, and the girl halted, pausing, offering words sweet, laced with sugar. The wannabe king growled softly, she was sweet as honey, an easy catch. Hurricane offered no words as she continues to speak. Flattening his tall triangular ears and glaring toward her. An apology escapes her lips, followed by a question. His name. What was his name? The knight paused, considering her question, however when his maw opened, it was not the answer she wanted that slips both angry and confused from between his lips. "You're the wrong color... Who are you? What are you doing here?
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Who am I



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