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Ruieze Fields

Open fields and soft grass...
Ruieze stretches far in the midlands of Moladion, laced with streams that feed into Diveen and out of Asteraia at times. The fields are vast, filled with wildflowers and tall, soft grass; trees are sparse, as are rocks, but one can find small shrubs to hide amongst, and the grass itself. To the south of the fields, a Ruieze River widens, and the ground becomes sandy. There is a small, grassy island that can be reached from the banks, with water-birds often congregating on the island rather than the riverbanks.

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IP: 108.61.228.87


s a b r i e l
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Sabriel was torn apart by recent things; by the fact that the gypsies were gone, vanished into thin air it seemed save for Orca who now lived a pack life, and Sabriel's own personal issues. Matters of the heart could be such a terrible thing, but life would go on as it always did. He would keep moving, keep going... wandering. He hadn't been able to live the pack lifestyle, though it was true that he had tried. Given it a chance because he felt that it was worth it. Until it wasn't, until he could not force himself to beat out the wanderlust that was embedded as deeply within him as anything could be. That was his life, who he was. It didn't change, and off he went again.

It doesn't soothe the brokenness that now resides within his chest, but he had left it all behind before and he supposed he could do so again if he had a need for it. He does and he knows that. If only he could shave off the bad parts and go on from there, but it was never quite that easy. Micteca was lost to him, and he finally had some kind of closure on that fact. Or the promise of it, at least. It was a renewed wound, reopened almost by mistake when he knew he should leave it alone, knew not to pick at it. But pick at it he had, and it was done now. Now there was only to lick the wounds and move on. Everything healed with time. Or so they said.

He was not sure what any of this means for him now, except that he has no direction anymore. He just moves along, thinking of all that has been lost and what could never be regained. He would survive, of course. Continue. It's all he can do. Of course the sounds of two howls through the night alert him in a way not usual here. He knew the tone of one very well. He perked up and began to jog towards the sound, curious to see if he was right. Soon enough he was only a few paces from his brother, and what looked like his younger half sister. "Dimitri." He said it quietly, then glanced to the female. -- "Delya." He wasn't sure what more to say...


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male -- eleven -- mate to none -- soulbound to anemone -- gypsy


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