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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Kick me down, still I rise

liquid amber
Nine|Mateless|Unmet imprint|Gypsy

With the talent show happening that night, the she-wolf didnít know what to think. Part of her questioned how she could have gotten even more wolves to join it, as another part told her to be thankful anyone desired to come at all. Hopefully, the fortune telling for next winter was easier than this. Though she wasnít creative enough to think up any good fortunes, and dressing up wasnít really her thing either. Honestly, the thing with the best turn out so far had been the play. Next task we to figure out where to fortune tell. Asteraia or Diveen sounded good so far. Iromar seemed to be having, troubles, so Amber didnít deem it all that safe to have it in.

Asteraia would have better ground for a play, so she assumed it was time to seek out the ruler, or rulers of Diveen and speak to them. Asteraia would get the fortune telling if Diveen would not meet, and if that didnít work, Spriane would get another event. For now, living in packs part time burdened a gypsy, and her legs itched to move. So Amber, now the wonderful age of nine, had trotted out of Taviora, and headed south. Of course, it didnít take her long to hear the call of her name.

Dragonfly was calling for her, and so the snow white creature aimed into the crags, her eyes looking for the younger pale beauty. It didnít take her long to see the other wolf up upon a rocky hill, her rear on the sun heated stones. Placing her paws carefully, Amber did her best to climb up, and instead of sitting as Dragonfly chose to do, she lay down completely, facing the direction her friend was facing.
ďHello Dragonfly. Long time no see. What have you been up to?Ē her calm, gentle voice asked the other she-wolf, trying to ignore the roughness that hid in her voice. No matter what, it stayed.

image © ITSDura | html © alicia/riley


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