Disaster has struck!
The Crags are a series of rocky formations with small caves and crevices throughout. Many of the lower-lying areas of the Crags have been flooded, however, with water pouring in from the Northern stretches of Moladion. Some paths have been completely submerged, and some are nothing more than a few rocky peaks sticking out of the water. The water is fairly slow moving but begins to pick speed up towards the Grotto, becoming a series of intense rapids and waterfalls as it nears the Grotto's entrance.
The area itself is still traversible. However, it can be risky. Large amounts of debris can enter the waterway, creating bridges at times but also creating dams that break and cause ocassional flash-flooding. Be careful, travelers! One wrong step and you could end up finding out where the water goes.
Note: Susil Crags will return to normal once 25 posts have been completed (or at Staff discretion). During this time, new threads will receive a 'Surprise','Disaster', and prizes.
P. 123; CHAPTER TWELVE (Lamia) IP: 22.214.171.124 Posted on August 28, 2016 at 12:18:07 PM by 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
While his tongue traced his brilliant grin, Grimoire’s pearly pink eyes tracked the soft folds of the muscle. Her hellhound was courageous and sly. The traits dripped off him like acid, showing in his relaxed muscles and unwavering gaze. She recoiled into her fur while she side stepped away, closing off the path he’d come from with her lithe form. His wonderful words enticed her to hum in thought. What cure had she for him?
Oh. Her’s ears twitched upwards. Oh, she did have a medicine - no, she had the ultimate solution for him. Run from me, my darling dear and I’ll never let your boredom sear, Grimoire’s mind sung the promise her father made to her mother. Her muscles tingled, thinking luck a glorious tool. Here, she’d been searching the world for a hunt, and here a subject presented his willingness. Such a rare breed of wolf he was, and she felt honored to share a value with him. One, she was certain, that would truly help his chronic condition.
”Yes, I do!”
Grimoire answered him, and she lifted her head. A howl vibrated the crags with a subtle tone. Though the call would carry for miles, it was unobtrusive to the eerie fog of the stoney paths. Clear and full was her call to hunt. Her prey had been located, and now the exam begun. Surely, her female friend from the woodlands was still following? Grimoire dropped her gaze to her multicolored, glowing eyed bachelor when her summoning faded.
She exposed both rows of her teeth in a manic grin. Her posture sharpened while every fiber of her fur stiffened with the flexion of her muscles. The hunt began, but she remained frozen, patiently awaiting the movements of her hunting partner. In the next moments, Grimoire would discover if the wolf she was testing was of the heritage she honored and she would uncover the true soul of her daring, wily victim.