<font color=849474>for the darkness has passed and the legend yet grows;</font>

Glorall

Disaster has struck!
Flooding from the north has taken its toll on Glorall. The large tides combined with the increase in water draining from the Ruieze River has flooded the lower regions of the pack. The sandy soil, compounded with so much water, has toppled a lot of trees. Traveling is difficult even when the water is shallower, with the sandy soil below being difficult to find traction on. The daily tides seem to keep the level of flooding fairly consistent, too.

During the low tide, wolves may be able to move around the higher dunes (with some difficulty) but during high tide, the pack is almost impossible to safely navigate. Swimming is possible, but the risk of currants and surges from either the ocean or the river are very real. The island off of the coast of Glorall is untouched by either issue, although it is incredibly difficult to find your way there without being an adept swimmer with plenty of good luck!

Note: Glorall will reopen once 30 posts have been completed (or at Staff discretion). During this time, new threads will receive a 'Surprise','Disaster', and prizes. Glorall is currently not open for challenges.

THE HERE AND NOWALPHA OF GLORALL

Elohim

Return to Lunar Children

for the darkness has passed and the legend yet grows;
IP: 71.185.233.187
Posted on September 25, 2015 at 05:35:16 PM by fenrir

peace. hunting for natu, doing nothing to stir the pot, letting natu thrive in this subterfuge sort of life� it was peaceful. a slumbering dragon rested in his chest and he had not prodded or poked it. instead he spent all his time feeding his mate so that she might grow strong. dodging eden had gone well too, at least for him, until he made it back to his and natu�s den to find not only eden, but another pack wolf, with his mate.

he ignores them both in preference of peeking down into the darkness, of whining with only the barest glance at the hare that smelled so much of eden his spine prickled. �I have an early spring fawn for you, my love,� he says, clearly a father in that moment and not a warrior. he wants to see the fruit of his mate�s well-cared-for labor. he slips into the darkness then, creeping into his side of the den and laying down with a whispered confession of love meant to settle her nerves and a glance left on hadrian.

�what are they? what have you named them, my heart?�

html by dante! -- img of dawnthieves.de

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