Where once the southern border of Blossom Forest was made by Leisure Lake, the magical rearrangement of the lands has laid there instead a vast, uncrossable ocean. The shore differs as you travel along it. Tall mountainous cliffs arise on the western part and at one point, the large river that runs through Blossom Forest opens up at its tributary into a well sheltered cove. As you come more eastward, the towering peaks shorten into rocky foothills. A large section of the shore is inaccessible to most, as Uyaraut has claimed it as their own. But if you skirt around their territory, the hills disappear, swallowed up into the land until it is as flat as the eye can see. The vibrant greens dull into short and dry browns and tans, and the land dries and cracks apart until it melds into The Waste - the desert that forms Blossom Forest’s easternmost border.

For those looking to hunt here, there are of course the fish within the ocean, along with crabs, seals and urchins. For on the shore, there are seagulls, herons, and ospreys.


ma chambre a la forme d'une cage

{|| dakota || male || adult || no pack || no mate || greensmurf ||}

Dakota’s greeting earned a chuckle from the slight she-wolf. He was good for that – lightening the mood and putting others at ease. She introduced herself as Dante. He found this interesting; he had actually known a Dante in his old packland. It was a male that he had known, but that wasn’t why it had caught his attention. Wolves didn’t really have such things as female names and male names. Names were just… names. What he found interesting was that with the thousands and thousands and thousands of unique names out there, he would come across one he had heard of before. To be honest, he liked her all the more for it. It was something very small, a minor detail really, but nonetheless it rang of familiarity. Familiarity was welcome and it warmed him in a small way. He mused – maybe she really was forged out of fire. After their short greeting, the other female present addressed him, regarding the statement he had made about Dante and fire.

Since she was addressing him directly he took the chance to better observe her. As he had seen from afar, she was a red color that was less intense than Dante, and her fur was accented with black and grey dustings here and there. For the first time, he noticed her unique eyes. At first he might have assumed her to be blind as her eyes had the standard milky appearance you would expect from eyes no longer serving their purpose. However as she spoke her mannerisms suggested that she could see just as well as he and any other healthy wolf could. Those white eyes playfully scanned first the fiery lass and then his own form. He didn’t shy away from it, and a small, crooked smile even hinted at something mischievous in the male. While he had never been openly promiscuous he was also no prude. Light-hearted flirting, when the timing was right for it, well it kept things interesting, right?

Nimueh, as she introduced herself, paid him with a compliment and then invited him in closer, sealing the exchange with a wink. His smile grew but before he had a chance to continue the casual rapport, an alabaster gent strolled up to the scene. The white wolf was more obviously muscular than Dakota and probably taller although he couldn’t tell from the angles they were standing. Dakota was really a modest wolf – on the taller side of average and well-muscled in the way that most wolves were. The other male and the fiery vixen exchanged a greeting as well. As they spoke, the rusty canine cast his earthy gaze out towards the reflective lake. It wasn’t a mindful decision to look away from the two as they spoke, it was just an automatic reaction born out of social cues that most wolves in any society was groomed to follow without even realizing it. Even though they all stood quite close and obviously could hear each other, since he didn’t really know these wolves it subconsciously felt intrusive to watch their conversation. As the tone of their greetings signaled that they would soon be over, he moved his eyes to look at Nimueh. If she noticed, he quirked his brow upward in particular way, sort of conveying a silent message to her. He wasn’t even sure what that message was supposed to be. As they waited for the nameless white wolf and Dante to finish speaking they temporarily existed in the same place – the limbo between conversations that was typical in gatherings of more than two. Perhaps his look was simply an acknowledgment of this shared figurative space.

Everyone’s attention was jolted towards the treeline as their ears were assaulted with a childish scream. A small figure sprinted in and made a line direct towards Dante. Dakota’s eyes flickered towards Dante to gauge the situation. She looked surprised but not alarmed or on guard. Obviously the youngling knew the older female as it was Dante! that had been yelled across the beach towards them. Seeing that she more or less had it under control, the cream and russet male stayed back and watched the scene unfold. The young wolf crashed into Dante’s chest and was met with a greeting from Dante laced with concern. It was a pup that the lass cared for, whether that meant sibling or godchild or cousin, he wasn’t sure. But he was sure they knew each other, by their interactions and the striking resemblance between them. Dante placed the young one between her front paws and after a moment of looking trouble she readjusted and addressed the group. As she began to speak, he noticed another ashen wolf coming up from behind the group, though this one was a female. She did not approach threateningly, and actually seemed invested in what Dante was saying, so he let his attention fall back onto the wolf on fire.

Dakota let the words that she spoke soak into mind. While Nimueh was quick to jump on the chance, ‘kota had always been a processor. Even if his immediate response would have been a resounding “yes!” he never actually would voice an answer so quickly. It just wasn’t how he was wired. He was an introspective guy, at least enough to consider things before making a decision. As opposed to the stereotype of process thinkers, this didn’t actually mean he needed to go retreat to a hole and stare at the grass growing for hours before coming to a conclusion. It simply meant that answering yes or no to such a bold question wasn’t a reflex. Thanks to the other wolves present he had plenty of time to mull over the very few factors that were involved and by the time the other male had answered, he followed without missing a beat.

“I, too, will accept. I enjoy a challenge, and after all…” He looked towards the other male with an entirely friendly smile, jokingly puffed out his chest and spoke in an over-the-top manly tone, as deep as he could manage. “There’s another male here now; I have to prove how studly and brawny and testosteroney I am.” After releasing the last word his voice stumbled into a short cough as faking such an incredibly deep voice had made his throat tickle. He offered a sheepish smile to the group and then he straightened up, easing seamlessly back into the more serious tone of the rest of the group. He stepped forward, finally closing some of the distance between himself and the original two females, and nodded at Dante with a gleam in his intelligent brown eyes. That nod and gleam in his eyes conveyed what he had felt was too flowery to speak in words. That he was there for her, there for the cause of reclaiming this land and helping her building something. Loyalty was a quality so heavily embedded into a wolf's DNA that he had known her for merely a few minutes and already was lining up behind her like a soldier. Not blindly, he wasn't a stupid wolf, but he truly believed in what he was pledging to. If it proved to be a false hope, he would move on. But from everything he'd picked up about Dante thus far, he felt like this was promising. After he spoke, the youngling who had previously been observing everyone else jumped up to get Dante’s attention. Sister… she must be sister… He, like the rest of them, waited now on Dante for further instruction.


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