When solid ground grows soft with emerald moss and rivulets of black mud, and coffee-colored water pours slowly around the trunks of densely carpeted trees, this marks the beginning of Laod Mor: the swamp of Blossom Forest. Time itself seems to slow to a soporific crawl . . . the humid jungle air grows stagnant, thick with the scent of rich flooded earth and an abundance of green things that can be found nowhere else—except perhaps Caidir Olc. In some areas of the swamp, water rises so high the only way to cross it is to crawl across fallen logs or massive roots arching from their liquid beds; in other places a wolf might wade easily through the mire—or find a fortunate stretch of mostly dry earth. Pieces of the great river, Glaesfaet Sceawere, also slice through from time to time: small falls that feed into surprisingly clear pools, only to terminate into tar-like pits. Of course, Laod Mor’s beauty shines brightest at night. Here, fireflies gather at all times of the year . . . suffusing the shadowy place with millions of twinkling lights.

Those looking to hunt here of course find a myriad of water prey, including caiman, turtles, fish, crayfish, otters, and toads.


my angel lie to me and tell me i'm dreaming

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Blood and murder. That was all that revolved in the gears of Vamperellas pretty little head, now wasn't it? Her thirst for the blood of the inoccent. Oh, the look on her that day. She didn't know what she had done. Her life was as if she was two people trapped in one body. That bloody night . . . Oh how it made him sorrowful.

His dear snowy Annabel. She was taken to soon. Her pearly white pelt shined in the night and her dark eyes - almost like coal. She was taken to soon . . . To soon. Vamperella hadn't ment to hurt her or him. Vamperella was the dragon, and he - the dragons keeper. Maybe he wouldn't find love. He'd rather parish and see her again than move on to a new love. He didn't have it in him to love again.

He had finally broken away from Vamperella. His blue green orbs locked on the waters he made his way to. Whispers of spirits here made him want to come. He searched for his Annabel. His love. His eyes looked into the reflection of the water that flow through the stream. There was nothing. No sign of her. And then his audits picked up on a voice.

Hello my dear... His teary eyes snapped up at the voices body. A white siloheted. "Annabel? He whispered. No. His tears rolled down and his maw closed. This woman had a mask of black. He sat on his rump before this masquerade. His body consisted of mainly black, white covering his chest and running over his belly to the underside of his tail. His jaw clenched tightly shut before he mustered out the words. "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else . . ."

"And though I will do my best, there are no words that can be written nor brush strokes laid on canvas that can describe the stark and utter horror of the night that Annabel died . . ."

☆ Vintique ☆ Adult ☆ Vampiren ☆ Ties Youths Homeworld ☆ -Metalhead- ☆
The Emptiness Will Haunt You


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