Enocra Woodland

Pine, spruce and firs alike...
Dense coniferous forests cover the woodlands, with clearings, paths and the occasional wildberry shrub throughout. Pine, spruce and fir make up much of the forest in the east, with the forest becoming swampier in the west towards Mecor Valley. In the west, cypress trees dominate, with fallen trees creating bridges across and throughout the stillwaters.

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i asked life ‘tell me what’s the meaning of love”;
IP: 108.16.227.147




long days, long time, she keeps the pace that is inherently bred into her home-pack. they are voyagers, vagabonds, gypsies - at least that is what moladion once would have called them. she knows only movement, forsakes stillness because she has never experienced it. the most stillness she had ever known was before her legs had taken to helping her stand. long elongated paws give her extra push, long legs give her a long stride, and a large heart and lungs lodged in a deep chest make sure she is never wearied of breath or dizzy from exertion. she is made for this.

it was a small foray, but she was young and before she had known to seek out familiar scents, she had been gone for too long to make rediscovering her birth-pack easily. they would be moving too, after all, and there was no telling in which direction. so here she is, entirely uninterested in standing still long enough to try and stabilize her bearings and young enough to believe there was wisdom in wandering along for a little while yet.

she does not realize moladion is an unmarked border, but not remotely innocuous, that no supreme wolf would bar her way as they had done before in other places. this is not one supreme pack, but six broken ones.

her markings would not stand out here, unlike when her predecessor pompeii had made her debute. pompeii had been a quality of fiery color that only two others had possessed in remotely similar manners. she, no. she is henna. she is simple with tans and browns, neutrals that came together in a lovely array of markings. but neutrals nonetheless. and here? here her eyes would be no great shock -- but, yes, it is all together, the sum of these parts, that make her a taste of wild beauty that disdained flash without scorning uniqueness.

her black nose dips, casting side to side in curious innocence, and seeks a reason to pause. a deer trail, a rabbit warren, an old wolf path, but nothing stirs her heart towards stillness. not even the scent of tunneled earth that might have signified the denning of a lone female who might benefit from or even provide comfort in company. she is looking for something. something, but not something henna can quite tell yet.

html by dante! -- original img of dawnthieves.de


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