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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EVEN IN THESE CHAINS, YOU CAN'T STOP ME.
IP: 69.40.33.140

your halo's slipping down around your neck
He is prone to only choosing the most enticing of females that he finds and this one is no exception. With not breeding until his eighth year he has found that it bodes well for what he has come to like and dislike in a female. Appearances are everything to the incubus and he would not have ugly children from any female that he takes advantage of this winter.

He lays near to her and she does not speak, her previous tilt of the head dismissed as he had laid claim to his spot along her side. But the stench of her winter’s scent is enthralling enough to urge him upon his paws once more. He resists such a thing for the moment, not wanting to put her ill at ease so early on in the process, lest she flee him. Darkened eyes turn to her with a sickly sweet smile, perhaps perceived as friendly from her perspective, but there is obvious intent hidden behind those kissers.

The grim male is only biding his time until he may woo her into a state of ecstasy and take what his was, rightfully, all along. ”Not much for small talk, hm?” his deep voice rolls out in smooth velveteen words as he looks to her with a cocked head. ”I never much liked the ones with sharp tongues anyhow.” he jeers boldly. His nose twitches as he shifts his position so that he may inch ever closer to her, inspecting if she had a male nearby who may come back at any moment. Yet the only thing he detected was the scent of two young ones who were probably off getting into trouble.

It is then that he can no longer take the torture of just sitting within her company as he stands to his massive paws. His coal colored muzzle moves to brush into her cheek and nuzzles down the side of her throat as he moves toward her anterior. Red tinted eyes are constantly lifted to keep a close watch on her reaction as he slips down her spine. It is a move that most females cannot resist in the depths of winter, even those who do not wish to copulate.


I AM AN EIGHT-YEAR OLD EXOTICAN BEAST OF MARVELOUS BLOOD WHO IS FREE OF CHAINS TO ANYWHERE. I POSSESS NO FURY AND HAVE CREATED NO DEMON BROOD... YET. MY MOTHER IS NOIR AND MY MASTERMIND IS FATE.
WHAT KATY DID


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