Susil Crags

Disaster has struck!
The Crags are a series of rocky formations with small caves and crevices throughout. Many of the lower-lying areas of the Crags have been flooded, however, with water pouring in from the Northern stretches of Moladion. Some paths have been completely submerged, and some are nothing more than a few rocky peaks sticking out of the water. The water is fairly slow moving but begins to pick speed up towards the Grotto, becoming a series of intense rapids and waterfalls as it nears the Grotto's entrance.

The area itself is still traversible. However, it can be risky. Large amounts of debris can enter the waterway, creating bridges at times but also creating dams that break and cause ocassional flash-flooding. Be careful, travelers! One wrong step and you could end up finding out where the water goes.

Note: Susil Crags will return to normal once 25 posts have been completed (or at Staff discretion). During this time, new threads will receive a 'Surprise','Disaster', and prizes.

Return to Lunar Children

rise and fall, rage and grace
IP: 208.123.1.104

I found myself wandering outside of Iromar more and more of late. It wasn't because I didn't want to be there; I felt at home in the moorland now. It just didn't feel like home. If there was even a difference anymore. The loneliness that had crept up on me in the year following my father's departure from Moladion seemed to be festering within my heart. Though I had been thrilled for Praetor when I discovered that Aithne was pregnant, it also reminded me of how far apart we'd grown. He was dedicated to his role as Emperor, and that of Aithne's mate; I couldn't be more proud of him. But I missed him. And I missed Tesseract. At the root of it all, I missed the dunes and cliffs of Glorall.

Somehow I managed to find myself within the familiar crags north of my home once more. I moved among the rocky outcroppings with refined grace, movements I had practiced from my youngest days. Always I had strived to be as light on my feet as my mother, to learn to move with the silence she had been innately born with. The cold stony surface beneath my paws was a comfort as I climbed higher and moved across the crags. The only thing missing was the burst of sea spray as waves crashed against the southern shores of Glorall. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine it. Inhaling deeply I stepped forward to the ledge, eyes closed as a slight breeze ruffled the fur along my neck and for a moment I was home again.

Then my gray hooded ears twitched at a sound, movement from below, another wolf. The illusion was lost and pale lavender eyes opened, seeking the wolf so that I might know if they were friend or foe. One could never be certain these days. What I saw left me speechless. A black shewolf who wore a shawl of white, touched with russet, rushed towards me. Her form seemed to fly up the hill towards me, but I could not move. I could not react or function. Was this reality, or had I fallen and hit my head, completely engulfed by the illusion of my past life in Glorall?

But as a warm, wet tongue washed over my face again and again with such unrestrained exuberance, the authenticity of this encounter could not be denied. My lack of response dissolved into puppyish glee. Tongue lapping out to return my mother's kisses unabashed. I dipped my torso down, hindquarters pushed skyward as my head twisted to lick at her chin as I had as a puppy. In this moment the years that had separated us didn't matter. Mother and daughter were reunited in an embrace that needed no words, at a time when my mother could not have possibly known just how much her daughter needed her.

rise and fall, rage and grace
Vesper
it is to judge and to be judged, to dream and to accept
Eight, Tesseract x Caligula, Iromar
html dante, image castle.


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