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.




The fact that her wounds would scar angered the kalak more than he thought it would. He could already tell that the skin would not heal in the same manner as a scrape would just because of the smell of the new skin. He continued grooming her, angered for some strange reason. Feeling anything other than annoyance or melancholy had not been a thing for Romulus for the past few months that he had been exiled. When the girl leaned into him, he hesitated, not entirely pleased that he was leading her on. If that was what he was doing. Knowing that she was a girl, it probably was insinuated by her. The gentler gender tended to have a thing for romance and knights in shining armor. Romulus was anything but a knight in shining armor. She was better off without him. Yet he couldn’t move away from her. His jowls flexed and he continued grooming. While he waited for her answer to his request, he listened closely to the way she breathed. Her pulse that vibrated through her flesh. The smell of wet dog. Gathering another mouthful of water, he pressed on, having to lean down much more than the average wolf due solely to his height. A thought came to him, and he paused before moving on with it. It was a test. To make sure that she was not attracted to him in any way shape or form. The stilted creature moved to her front, listening as she spoke and settling himself in front of her, judging the distance due to the sound of water moving around her own legs. I remember what happened, but I still don’t know who it was. Uh oh. This didn’t sound good. The bastard prince prodded forward with his facial features, finding her chest and grabbing one of her stilts gently in his mouth before moving it so she would know to put her ankle over his shoulder so that he could work on the soft flesh around the joints connecting her leg to her torso. Perhaps it wasn’t fair to do this while she was trying to remember something. But it was actually the best situation he could ask for for it. She would be focused. And if he broke that focus, he would know that he needed to stop seeing her. Because he was risking the chance of her falling in love with him. And that was a big mistake. ”It was a large male. He came here, where I was, right after Lady died. At first he was darkly colored, but then he attacked me, and held me under the water until I passed out. A low growl rumbled through the brute’s larynx, though it made no escape from his lips. This didn’t sound like a bedtime story. He wasn’t expecting one, seeing as she was all banged up when she had come to him… but he had been hoping it would’ve been something completely different than an attack or attempted kidnapping. When I woke up, I was in a cave in the snow, and he looked different. He was white, and half his face was scarred and half his muzzle basically gone, one eye wasn’t there either. And then…he did this to me. I don’t understand why.”

He would have laughed. He really would have. If this had been any other situation, he would have burst out in girlish laughter, doubling over at the irony of her describing someone to the point where he had been able to faucet a sort of model in his mind. Tell the blind man what someone looks like, make him pity himself for his lack of sense. Allow him knowledge of what he is missing. Poke him in the eye sockets just for fun. But the thing was, this was no laughing matter. Because Romulus was able to match the model to an actual being. And not just that, but he had stopped grooming her. With her fore over his tall shoulder and him leaning down towards her, crowding her space with his cologne… his teeth mere centimeters from her neck, his breathing hot and ragged. It was the moment he was waiting for. Her reaction. But it was also something he wished he had not heard or done. Because the only varg he had ever heard about and seen from a distance during a border patrol was Kershov. And Abendrot’s king was not one that a varg should be messing around with. But what would the frozen King be interested in regarding Nymeria? Moments later, Romulus lifted his listeners slightly, paying attention to Nymeria’s actions very closely. He measured her breath. Took her pulse. Listened for her voice to come. If it did… if she reacted girlishly, if she heated up, if she had a fast heart rate, if she stuttered, if she pulled away, if she did anything that would hint to embarrassment or shyness, Romulus would exhale softly.

He pulled away carefully, nudging her leg off of his shoulder blade and shaking himself. I am no soldier, Nymeria. I refuse to fight for you. But I will warn you against travelling alone. Go home. Find a mate. Stay with him. Rely on him. He will protect you. But you must not go near Abendrot. Stay as far away from dealings with them as much as you can. Romulus backed up a bit and swept his tongue over his ivories. Your assailant was Kershov. White male, scars everywhere, one eye, sick way of dealing with his prisoners, and a man who is not afraid of kidnapping to get more soldiers. If he finds interest in someone, he WILL pursue them. Stay in your pack borders and you should be fine. He cannot touch you if there is a territory line between you and he. Being a bastard prince had given Romulus a good idea of who was enemy and who was not. He’d also learned of many different wolves and their packs. Kershov was one he had always seen as a divine being. But after developing a heartened personality beneath his shield of iron, Romulus had begun to get a bitter taste in his mouth whenever he heard about the King’s plunderings.

Romulus dazed. Not that Nymeria would be able to tell unless she looked up and noticed that he was pointing his head a little to the right of her shoulder and not directly at her, which he was usually able to do with anyone.


Post a reply:
Password To Edit Post:

Create Your Own Free Message Board or Free Forum!
Hosted By Boards2Go Copyright © 2000-2018
Our Sites: Wedding address collection  Wedding thank you wording