When solid ground grows soft with emerald moss and rivulets of black mud, and coffee-colored water pours slowly around the trunks of densely carpeted trees, this marks the beginning of Laod Mor: the swamp of Blossom Forest. Time itself seems to slow to a soporific crawl . . . the humid jungle air grows stagnant, thick with the scent of rich flooded earth and an abundance of green things that can be found nowhere else—except perhaps Caidir Olc. In some areas of the swamp, water rises so high the only way to cross it is to crawl across fallen logs or massive roots arching from their liquid beds; in other places a wolf might wade easily through the mire—or find a fortunate stretch of mostly dry earth. Pieces of the great river, Glaesfaet Sceawere, also slice through from time to time: small falls that feed into surprisingly clear pools, only to terminate into tar-like pits. Of course, Laod Mor’s beauty shines brightest at night. Here, fireflies gather at all times of the year . . . suffusing the shadowy place with millions of twinkling lights.

Those looking to hunt here of course find a myriad of water prey, including caiman, turtles, fish, crayfish, otters, and toads.


Once you stare Death in the face, you appreciate life for what it is {Open}

The small pup struggled to free herself from Death's grip, after seeing her parents murdered ruthlessly by the same wolves her father had exiled, she knew that it was only a matter of time before they found her.
- - -
True enough, her father had gotten wind of the attack a day before it actually happened. He had gotten the pack together and explained, they were to protect her, raise her as their new queen if anything happened to them. They had all agreed that if anything happened to her parents, they would raise her with the elders leading the pack until she was of age.
Then, everything went badly wrong.
They came under the cover of the night, nobody saw them coming. They made straight for the den in which her family slept. She was well concealed in her mother's fur, snuggled in between her parents. They had killed the wolves that were guarding the den, and made no sound as they went into the den. She felt blood on her pelt, then she knew no more.

- - -
She was curled up in a ball among the slush of snow on the top of the Falls that had not yet melted, her pelt stained with the color of the snow. Under the cover of the night, it would be quite easy to trip over this girl as she was almost all black mixed with the white of the snow.


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