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

By Fire Be Purged

Through all her self-gratifying anger and snarling sarcasm, she did not hear the approach of the stranger, despite the deliberation with which he placed each pale paw. Her mind was far too busy picturing the smirk on the face of the rabbit whose warren she now blocked with her paw, and trying not to focus on the numbness that began to spread up her leg and into her shoulder, quite aware of the results such a lack of feeling would bring about. She growled again and tried to pull herself free, but stopped abruptly when the rock shifted in its place, threatening to crush her fine bones. It was during this lengthy silence that she finally noticed the presence of another to her right, his scent cloying and unfamiliar. Baring her teeth in silent warning, she craned her neck around to look at him as best she could, revealing her only good eye in the process. It glared at the older male with vehemence, its red and orange depths swirling vividly as she faced him. Even her tail rose across her back dominantly to match his own, refusing to be lorded over a second time. He met her gaze calmly enough, and he seemed untroubled by both her attitude and her current predicament. Instead he merely watched her awhile before he finally spoke, eyebrow raising as he casually offered his aid.

At first Fiam was outraged, and she growled and struggled afresh, good mood long gone and replaced with an overwhelming desire to rip into muscle and spill hot blood. However, not even sheer will could move the great rock that called her prisoner, and so she finally quieted, a resigned sigh slipping from between her clenched teeth, “Your offer, which I might add is a gracious one, is such that I see myself forced to accept.” She smiled, but her biting irony would not have gone unnoticed. Aware that she may have blown her only chance at freeing herself, she tried to be more helpful, “I saw a stick a little ways behind that rock,” she gestured with her head to the area she had come from, “Some wolf once old me that if you shove the stick under a rock and put your weight on it, you may be able to move it. He could never tell me why though.” Of course, wolves have no grasp of physics, but their problem-solving abilities were well known and, through trial and error, the leverage properties of a thick tree limb had been discovered. Luckily for Fiammetta. Of course, if the white wolf had a better idea she wouldn't object to his attempting it, just so long as the end product saw her free once more.

While she waited for a reply, she summed up the stranger, noting his size and superior age, as well as drawing in a huge huff of his scent. It was sharp and familiar, and clawed at the memories of the girl so that she wanted to howl with frustration, quite unable as she was to remember where she had smelt such an odor before. It did, however, cause her to recall that her own perfume was flooding the air becomingly, and she clamped her raised tail firmly against her backside, trying to stifle winter's beckoning. The male did not look like a crazed youngster though, and she supposed she could expect more than mindless coupling from a seasoned warrior, especially one whose pale eyes gleamed with knowledge. She shook her head again, trying unsuccessfully to piece together the stranger.

Only when he came slightly nearer did she finally recognize his smell as that of Tesseract. Although she had never actually met him, Fiam had long before familiarized the odors of every alpha, lest she decide to challenge them, and news traveled swiftly in Moladion. Her one eye widened with surprise, and then narrowed with humor. When she next spoke, it was in a mocking tone she tried-but wasn't able-to hide, “Ah, the disgraced former king of Glorall. Pity about that dog that rules there now. Or maybe not; I will very much enjoy bringing him down.” She spoke without fear, although the other may well have viewed her bravery as futile, her form pathetic. Still, her gaze burned with anger and the thirst for revenge and it would be a surprise if the white king who had lost his crown did not take her seriously.

Fiammetta - Female - No Home - No Family - 4YO - 28 inches, 32 pounds

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