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.


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If not for the water source, I would have worried that I had simply gone in one big circle in my travels across the world. Greedily I drank from the cool water of the creek noting the odd, earthy taste it possessed. Mixing in with the earthy scent of the water I discovered that many souls had made their pass through here. Their perfumes, faint but still there. Fresh and old ones. I had never been a real big social bug when it came to strangers. Always making a point to go where there was little to no evidence of other wolves; I never had to worry about angry a pack or lone wolf that way. Raising my own head back onto shoulders I took off at a slow trot along the creek, taking in the scents, trying to piece together a commonality. The bouquet of long-passed wolves offered my mind the logical conclusion that this must be some sort of neutral ground. There was no evidence that anyone was living here; but that they had simply passed through while on their way.

When I had discovered green land for the very first time - having never even known what a tree was - I found myself completely overwhelmed by the scenery of what I would later learn was a “forest” that flanked a “meadow”. I quite enjoyed the different aspects of nature in my travels, but it had been quite a long time since I had spied these familiar shades of rust and umber. The dry air and the parched earth felt like an old friend, but, due to the circumstances of leaving my homeland, I had acknowledged that it was more of a tragic sentiment than a nostalgic one.

I slow my pace down to a lazy walk, the warm evening sun beating down onto my back as I yawned widely with an involuntary whine and giving a shake of my head as I went. . Having been traveling almost all day, I had decided it would be best to find a spot to rest, my legs were beginning to grow tired. I also did not like to travel at night in new lands. I veered off away from the water towards a tree not to far away. My snowy white frame slid down to its belly beneath the trees shade as a yawn parted my jaws once again. I lower my head down to rest upon my paws as eyelids close over those golden sunlit optics, closing out the world before me. Audits stand alert incase one should approach me while I was in such a vulnerable state.




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