Susil Crags

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.

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A trace of poison, a trace of powder: aranck

Now THIS was more like it. The burning heat of summer had all but stifled her. It choked the lungs and left her strangely listless, much to her chagrin and fury. Arace was a force of nature. She pulled when she should push and so she drove on despite the limitations. The fight with the male in Spirane had gone less than pleasant but she had come to the decision he was NOT her planned target. Kudos for him. Now the tundra wolf was on to her next target. She had begun to stalk a white and silver looking male in the forest pack but her desire for attack had ebbed since her fight with Sleekwing. She had been running on adrenaline and pent up energy then. Too ready to pounce and not ready enough to prey. Now she took her time.

He would be there when she was ready so she left it, leaving a trail away from Taviora without a care. Apparently the forlorn wolves here didn't skirt the packs so much, they just edged around the borders, so none would know her purpose anyways. As winter had set in her internal clock went off. She grew restless, paws brushing through the downy snow as she paces up and down rocky ledges alternating between sighs and growls. Her body sings with its readiness for a mate but her mind rebels.

Pups were not in the cards for her and she had zero desire for them but she was stuck in estrus regardless. A few wild males poked around, pupils wide in haste, and they were driven back by the force of her attacks. The black and gray flecked back of Arace remained a perpetual ridge of aggression as she fights her own haze.


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