Ruieze Fields

Open fields and soft grass...
Ruieze stretches far in the midlands of Moladion, laced with streams that feed into Diveen and out of Asteraia at times. The fields are vast, filled with wildflowers and tall, soft grass; trees are sparse, as are rocks, but one can find small shrubs to hide amongst, and the grass itself. To the south of the fields, a Ruieze River widens, and the ground becomes sandy. There is a small, grassy island that can be reached from the banks, with water-birds often congregating on the island rather than the riverbanks.

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BURNING UP; CRAWLING DOWN
IP: 108.245.133.46


Eldritch - six - loner - taika's mate - neverland's soul


I can see the way the female recoils from me. Instinct demands I take a step closer to her and I do but I freeze, my brain overpowering whatever mystic urge that asks this of me. I stand there with a slight breeze rippling through my scraggly gray and tanned fur. Lavender eyes watch her with a sort of naked pain; pain from the throb in my head, pain from somewhere inside of me that is lost and pain that mirrors hers because I know she is hurt. She was my lover, she said, but was she really? How would I even know? What reason could she have to lie? Did I want to find out? Too many questions. I was drowning in them. Suffocating.

My head tilts an inch to the side as she apologizes, a rasping mewling sound to my ears because I know what hides beneath it. Taika. The name made me physically shiver because I felt as if I knew it. Had heard it. It was like this feeling that wants me to comfort her. I step closer once more now, looking down at her as she lays prone on the ground. I don't stop until I am standing over her and only then do I lean my nose down to press against the crown of her head and sniff.

Each movement is stilted, warning her not to begin her dancing again lest I back peddle and race out of here. She could never hurt me, she is too small for that, but I can't deal with such movement right now. I need to figure out the pieces of the puzzle in my head. "You are so familiar but not." The words are whispered in a confused way. I lift my head and glance around, trying to piece together a memory from this glen but finding nothing. "Moladion."

Suddenly I growl and step back, shaking my head as if I am rabid, the growl still erupting in fits and bursts. Then, just as abruptly, I sit down and hang my head, ears pressed back. What do I do?










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