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
IP: 105.210.117.159







Although the white wolf lay, her concentration focused not only on her thoughts but also on her ruined face, she knew well enough to keep her wits about her. Too many times had she been caught unawares, and slumber had been want to find her afterward for so long that she had silently made herself a promise to never again let down her guard. Thankfully too, for her wakefulness meant that she scented the stranger long before she heard the click of his paws on the rocks beside her, the faithless wind quick to reveal him to her questing nostrils. She didn't turn though, only continued to gaze at her mirror reflection in the ruffled water of the pool. It wasn't long before another reflection appeared opposite hers, one of an unknown male as black as the midnight, and she was swift to note with annoyance the malicious gleam in his eyes. Ah well, it was of no consequence to her if he gave her any reason to sharpen her teeth on his bones. In fact, she may very well enjoy such a challenge on so beautiful a day, for it would break the monotonous boredom she had loathed while waiting for her various wounds to heal.

He did not bother to introduce himself, merely appraised her with unconcealed disgust before speaking, his words both shocked and mocking, if such a mixture could exist. She licked one paw absently before, with exaggerated slowness, she raised her pert muzzle to fix him with that single eye as red and hypnotic as the flames for which she was named. Her melted ear twitched slightly as she regarded him, an unimpressed expression on her features despite his larger size (she was rather used to being smaller than all those around her). Her calm demeanor may very well have been unnerving, if it wasn't for the ferocious anger that broiled inside of her chest, visible only through that single window to her soul. It was very clear that she fought hard to control her righteous anger and quick temper, fought hard to banish the pup thoughts from her mind. It was also exceedingly more clear that, if he pushed her too far, she would fail dismally.

The silence dragged on for awhile as the female took a few deep breaths and, in that time, the sharp-witted male spoke again, the grin he wore evident in his words. She narrowed her eye and stood, stretching luxuriously and punctuating it with a yawn so large and terrible that it showed not only every sharp tooth in her jaws, but also the lack of lips on her right side. It may not have done much for beauty, but her new appearance was definitely far more intimidating than her old one. When she was done (for she wouldn't be rushed by anybody but herself) she finally turned to face him, eyeing him from her good side and concealing her other plane so that she was again the pretty little daughter of Iskra, small and lean with womanly curves, “You should have seen the other wolf,” a smile appeared on what was left of her black lips, but it was mirthless, “I very much doubt that. And, even if your ugly mug was thus gifted, what makes you think I want my fur back?”

Along with her newfound patience, it seemed her brush with Death had also brought about in her a kind of dark humor she had not before indulged in. That, combined with her recent solitary existence, made her more inclined to speak to him and less inclined to simply leap at him and tear out his throat for his impertinence.
Fiammetta - Female - No Home - No Family - 5YO - 28 inches, 32 pounds


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