P. 78; CHAPTER EIGHT - " />
Aplos Riverside

Moladion’s powerful, winding river...
Aplos River is a broad, slow-moving river originating from somewhere beneath the mountains of Spirane and feeding Iromar’s moors in the south. The northern parts of the river are known for their strong currents, with the water becoming slow moving in the south. The riverbanks vary along its course, ranging from soft hummock grasses to small groups of pine, and sometimes nothing but pebbles and sand. Crossing can be difficult at times, but it can be swam or bridged by fallen trees or boulders alike.

Return to Lunar Children

P. 78; CHAPTER EIGHT
IP: 69.131.85.174

GRiMOiRE
5 years . 37 inches . 120 pounds . loner
"Dance, my little puppets,
set your soul free.
Dance, my little puppets,
dance just for me."
- verse iii, sandy nobody
The amount of time that past felt like hours to Grimoire. Through each second, she heard each cricket's creak, felt the movement of air tease her fur, and watched his green eyes fixate on her as if he’d like to pull sinew off her bones. She felt her paws prickle as if she’d stepped on thistle and she thought she might retreat and repeat herself until she saw Elijah’s eyes sharpen with haggard intellect. The words dragged out of his voice cords like he was giving them carpet burn in the process. Still, the voice relaxed her and Grimoire’s paws stopped itching with slivers.

She began to answer him,

”It’s a series of ques-”

But he startled her with intense aggression. She felt her heart leap into her throat at his loud proclamation of dislike. She lowered her head immediately in submission and didn’t speak again, thinking that perhaps the sudden burst of irritation was with her words. Was he still processing her request? She certainly wouldn’t want to overwhelm him for the moment. His particular case of split personality seemed highly unstable when it was confronted. Would it be easy for her to agitate him in the future? Probably. Grimoire was decent at grating nerves and sprinkling them over a salad of characters. She didn’t drop her careful posturing until Elijah shook his massive head in a characteristically different manner - lightly.

Astonishing - remarkable, really. His voice was low and rumbled through the air; she felt his words more than heard them. Grimoire waved her tail in tentative greeting, before stiffening it when the facade of Elijah changed, back into the beast that was snarly.

The quality of her voice remained even and alto for a female as she pronounced,

”Elijah.”

She had called for him in the beginning, so she figured she had better speak with the wolf she originally requested instead of changing her mind and trying to interview his mind-mate. Calling one wolf only to try and get a hold of another seemed rather rude, didn’t it? And she was nothing if not cordial… in the proper atmosphere. Patiently, she waited to see if her wish would be granted or if Elijah was too shy to surface for a conversation.
html © toulouse . reference image . toodles


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