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

:: The Black Prince ::
IP: 124.168.135.225

TOBIAS

For some time he simply continues to watch her, expression vacant and devoid of all life as emerald gaze so reptilian and cool rest upon her form as she sits. She turns her back from him, dares to offer him this disrespect as a snarl of sorts is spate free and into the night air like the hiss of a viper in warning for her actions- though he makes no move to correct her as of yet, merely lowering his form to the stony earth as he reclines- for she is nothing, for the fear others hold of her is meaningless to him, fear cannot be stirred within a creature that can feel only hunger and need and no else, a shell in the form of wolf, one empty and wasted upon the earth he is doomed to travel until he too is permitted this final blessing of death. Perhaps then his mind can rest, perhaps then his tortured soul may finally know some peace other than the madness that drives him onward over and over, poisoning his thoughts with a need for blood and flesh until his energy is drained and all that exists is a need to sleep until the darkness overtakes the sun once more and he may exists within his kingdom of darkness in this shell he calls a life. Yet perhaps his insanity is not without cause, for his mind cannot consider these things, does not think beyond food and meal though often those demons scrape and snarl when others speak, when others question, some fractured part of that ravaged mind piecing together the puzzle that is his consciousness in an effort to find answer to what they ask though whether he understands or merely repeats cannot be said.

She moves closer still now, form pressing into space declared his own as so few dare to do, lips peeled back from those violent white knives in clear threat before teeth lunge suddenly for her muzzle, seeking to drive her away, to snap at her, perhaps nip her muzzle should she continue to dare to press upon him in a manner he will not tolerate in this moment as heckles lift and another snarl rises to hiss from within the depths of his chest in this final warning he offers. He desires her closeness, his tattered, wretched soul reaching for her and yet so much instinct within himself drives her away. He cannot kill her, cannot consume her as he craves, accepts her as….equal perhaps and yet his dominance is ever assured, he will tolerate nothing less as head returns to his paws in contentment once more though those eyes remain ever unblinking, unmoving, fixated with blankness upon her own.

The words she offers see those eyes roll upon her, ears pressed back against his skull in an effort to stop those vile words from grating against him. He loathes speech, loathes sounds he cannot understand as he snarls towards her once more, his temper a delicate thing, the male volatile, unpredictable and yet….tolerable of her still- a least for now, the connection of soul seeming to provide to her an extended measure of patience so rarely displayed before those lips at last seem to part once more. The voice that emerges is rough, hoarse, weak from disuse and yet undeniably masculine all the same as it rolls from within his throat like a hiss or air.

“Waiting.”

It is all he seems to manage, offering nothing further for several moments, though whether he merely chooses not to speak, forgets, else remains belligerent cannot be said as he continues to eye her, refusing to allow her close in this moment and without the scent of winter to entice him.

“For…you too…die.”

Those dark and twisted lyrics still result in nothing more than a blank look, as if he remains utterly unmoved, unconcerned by his own darkened words as they slither from his tongue.

“Then I….eat.”

They are the same words offered to his last and unfortunate soul mate, that he was determined o follow, a ghostly and darkened shadow, death itself upon her heels until the day she died and he could feed at last upon her heated flesh as he so desires. He does not understand, it would seem, the rest of her sentence (else chooses to appear as such) unable to comprehend what he does and does not want in regards to her presence. Thickened dark plume of a tail lashes once more, form shifted slightly upon the earth as eyes focus ahead once more, staring again, waiting for her to die as he had so assured her he would.

“Hungry…soon?”

What this means remains to be seen, the male offering nothing more other then to taste of the air around her as if seeking to smell……for any weakness upon her, any scent that she will soon cease to exist and provide to him the meal he so desires. Words offered a final time and yet they are jumbled, repeated, stuttered upon as if the computer of his mind has frozen before the words are spat free and his head lays upon his paws once more, offering no explanation and no further words, seemingly only agitated further.

“Do not…hate, hate, hate….”






Replies:


Post a reply:
Name:
Subject:
Message:
Password To Edit Post:



Create Your Own Free Message Board or Free Forum!
Hosted By Boards2Go Copyright © 2020