Fir Chilis is the name given to the dense string of forested land that fills much of Blossom Forest. There are two different populations, depending on where in the land you are. To the north lays the deciduous forest, full of maples, oaks, birches, and beeches. To the south lay a coniferous forest full of pines and firs. No matter where you are, the trees shelter you from the sun and the rain and the snow. Take care not to get lost in the woods however - you may never find your way out. There are other dangerous here too - predators waiting for their own prey. While the land is prosperous they do not pose too much of a threat, but whenever famine or drought hits, they will attack anything... even other Putnar.

Those looking to hunt will find the forests well stocked - there are white-tailed deer, turkeys, red squirrels, chipmunks, mermots, and moose.



You can't break me
Warm sunlight streamed in, broken apart into fragments by branches of trees, and colored a patchwork of greens as fresh new leaves emerged from their buds amidst ever warming spring air. Winter had past slowly, melting snow fading into slush and soaking the lands with waters higher than any Blossom had ever seen before. Now, however, the ground had begun to dry, and Hurricane, found himself nestled within a bed of old crisp leaves, discarded by autumns winds, and fresh soft moss. The sun seemed to vanish within the gladiator's midnight hued pelt, as if the darkness of his fur swallowed it up completely and left the area devoid of any shrapnel of sun. The large monster had fallen into a deep slumber at some point, however now, citrine lanterns open slowly, and blink sleepily. Hurricane of Mexico remembered naught of falling asleep, or even what had brought him to this lake in the first place. His sleepy mind pondered, rather confusedly the situation he seemed to find himself in.

Hurricane of Mexico was a beast of wrath and anger, and the last thing the monster clearly remembered was the doe he had dismembered. Sticky crimson liquid clung to midnight hairs along his oversized physique, and the fierce warrior recalled the grinding of teeth against bone, followed by the almost musical pop of ivory bones snapping out of their joints. Cartilage had been strewn everywhere and ivory bones had been crushed. Hurricane had eaten very little of his meal, taking pleasure more in the demolition of the creature than the taste of it's meat. In fact, the wicked creature had not even been hungry when he began hunting the doe, and his lack of appetite only increased as Hurricane stripped away skin from bone and took away everything that had once made that creature whole.

Faded memories trickle back slowly as Hurricane's mind revives itself from deep slumber. A raven painted vixen with a fire colored skirt had approached Hurricane when the warrior finally pulled himself from delirium and discovered his own ebon pelt soaked in sticky blood not his own. The gladiator had sought a place to clean his fur, however he had ended up with unwanted company, the auburn and night sky faerie had rambled and babbled until Hurricane snapped, and left her standing at the waters edge, going instead to another source of water to clean himself. Cerulean and amethyst painted optics shatter his thoughts, and Hurricane's mind suddenly kicks into overdrive. Hurricane could smell her blood, in fact, it was smeared upon his pelt. Panic shoots through his stomach and heart, icy daggers searing deep within this dark knight's gut, tearing it apart, sending it tumbling.

What had happened to the earthen painted bird? Hurricane remembered only slightly, her terra toned physique pressed close upon his own starry night cloak, his strong muscular physique wrapped closely around her own lithe bodice. The slender young valkyrie had nestled into Hurricane's pelt, knowing naught of the danger his presence put her in, or of the growing darkness that swept through his blackened heart. Now tho, the regal gladiator sat in a state of frozen terror, unable to recall what had happened to the earthen painted porcelain creature, or if his own wicked mind had betrayed him and he had turned tooth and nail upon her. If that were the case, Losa stood no chance, and it was entirely possible Hurricane had demolished her being completely.

With this thought in mind, the dark dragon rose upon massive paws, lightning lanterns searching the shoreline. The ground here was not drenched in blood, nor was there any remnant of the petite lass, and so Hurricane could only assume she was alive, and if this was the case, the raven cloaked leviathan needed to locate her. Large trilateral auditories flicker constantly, struggling to block out the noises of the forest to listen for his earthen princess. A deep seated urge to protect her swept through Hurricane, and he was completely incapable of this task if the dark monster could not even find her.

Hurricane was not skilled in tracking, however the beast of wrath excelled in hunting, and so, intoxicated with the smell of Losa's blood, the knight set off, searching for a small brown wolf.

The large dragon wandered deep within the forests of blossom, following rivers, and trudging through large patches of mud where the ground had swallowed the overabundance of water, which had swelled from the lakes and rivers in lieu of the melting snow, and left almost all of blossom requiring at least the moderate knowledge of swimming. Finally, Hurricane's midnight physique stumbled toward the only place he had not searched, Rainbow Cliff. Tired paws moved forward, a steady march, following the drumbeat of his heart. The sun had already risen high in the sky, and warm afternoon heat was beginning to evaporate moisture from the damp ground. As Hurricane broke through the undergrowth, a gentle voice broke the knight out of the trance that had settled upon his mind, and the ebon prince turned his skull, only to see his terra toned princess, standing before him. Im right here! I was looking for a rabbit, and I forgot what I was doing. Good . . . morning?

A soft smile crosses the dark knight's maw as Losa raises her tail slightly, wagging it gently, and Hurricane moves forward, bumping his nose against her shoulder gently as she greets him again, more softly. "Good morning Losa. I couldn't find you... you worried me." Hurricane rumbles softly, citrine optics scanning her bodice to ensure she was well. A deep gouge marred one side of her flank, and Hurricane shifts his nose, sniffing gently. The wound was not fresh, however it was also no longer clean, and concern lines the knight's features. Turning to face her he pauses, realizing what he had just said. Worried? Why was he worried? Hurricane of Mexico had never worried about the wellbeing of any soul before, why ought he begin now? But his words were true, and so the beast dares not attempt to reclaim them, instead, he moves forward, nuzzling her ear softly. "That wound on your flank needs to be cleaned soon."

Word Count: 1,042
Hurricane of Mexico
Can you?


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