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.

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From that first time that his father had beaten him for letting his sister wander off, that was when Raluck stopped trusting males, he was always in his nicest mood when he was around females and pups but when he was around males, he was his worst.

He never imagined to be here. In a world where wolves could be free, never living up to someone's expectations, getting beaten every time that they did something wrong or just because their father was bored.
Raluck had thought of this as he made his way to the Falls, he was new, he had peeked into some places but the place that he really liked was the Falls.
He made his way into the water, letting his fur get wet and, seeing a nice fish, dove underneath the water and latched onto the fish. As soon as he was out of the water he let go of the flopping fish to shake his coat out, he then bit its head off in one fluid motion, jumping up to the second rock-stair, he began to eat the fish, thinking all the while about his father. Had he really done the right thing by leaving home? He hoped he had, he wasn't about to go back, that was for sure. His sister was long dead, his father blamed Raluck for her death and never left him alone, he always seemed to be angry and used Raluck as his stress-reliever. He drifted off to sleep, ears twitching to catch every sound.


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