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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Tyrion

Tyrion was only somewhat disappointed in her lack of physical interest, but it was no matter. Not like he needed any pups running around. At his age? Gods only knew what being a father spelled for him. The dwarfish male took it all in stride, glad she was willing to continue her conversation with him. It worked out nicely. He would get an idea of her and possibly a picture of some of the wolves who inhabited these lands. And the lands themselves for that matter. He had no chance of survival without having the proper knowledge to do so. He inclined his head.

From lands far away. No need for them to know the name of where he came from. Not like it was a simple day or two walk from here. Tyrion spent weeks... months, getting away from there. No one needed to get too curious about the lands of his origin. And Nymeria didn't press, all the better. His ears flicked as she described the place. Ancient? No, the word she used was old, he noted. At least it had been around for some time. Long enough to have a well established population, the golden blond male noted as she continued.

The tiny male nodded as she spoke of the packs. Each seemed worth investigating at some point. No doubt he would do so at some point. After all, a wolf like him was not meant to spend the dead of winter alone. Tyrion shuddered at the thought as they padded along. His thoughts were brought back to the conversation at hand when she asked of where he was from. "Nothing wrong with the mountains. Good strong wolves from the mountains," he said, debating the right way to describe the land of his birth. "We were called seven kingdoms. Multiple packs that answered to one supreme ruler. A king, or queen, if you will. My family came from the coast, rocky cliff sides and sheer drops into the sea. It wasn't a terrible place to live. Could have been mine, but he always intended it to be led by my brother." he said, trailing off momentarily, "But no matter, my father is dead, and my sister wants me dead, so all the better I'm here." Tyrion's smile was genuine at this point. No reason to go back if one of the presumably most powerful wolves in the land wanted you dead.

MALE - SIXTEEN - IMPRINTLESS - LOVELESS - LONER
html & image by castlegraphics; stock from KKoshy



((OOC: Thanks for reminding me about this one! I totally forgot to save it!))

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