Where once the southern border of Blossom Forest was made by Leisure Lake, the magical rearrangement of the lands has laid there instead a vast, uncrossable ocean. The shore differs as you travel along it. Tall mountainous cliffs arise on the western part and at one point, the large river that runs through Blossom Forest opens up at its tributary into a well sheltered cove. As you come more eastward, the towering peaks shorten into rocky foothills. A large section of the shore is inaccessible to most, as Uyaraut has claimed it as their own. But if you skirt around their territory, the hills disappear, swallowed up into the land until it is as flat as the eye can see. The vibrant greens dull into short and dry browns and tans, and the land dries and cracks apart until it melds into The Waste - the desert that forms Blossom Forestís easternmost border.

For those looking to hunt here, there are of course the fish within the ocean, along with crabs, seals and urchins. For on the shore, there are seagulls, herons, and ospreys.


Way of the Warrior

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Warriors are not born and they are not made,
Warriors create themselves

This wasn't how he had intended it. He had not yet washed the blood from his pelt, but he had never intended to have it caked in blood in the first place. Murder was not in his normal regimen, and while he killed prey to feed upon, never had he killed another varg. In all honesty, it was something that had previously scared him, more because he had seen his own foster mother killed when he was young. It had been such a jarring image for the pup that had never left his mind's eye. Whenever he had been in battle, he had always left his opponents alive. Perhaps they were severely or even mortally wounded, but never did he watch them die. He did not want their blood on his conscience. And yet here he was after having made that exact choice. There had been no hesitation on his part, none at all. Without a second thought he had torn through the wolf. But it hadn't even been a quick kill - it had turned into a bloody, dirty battle leaving Aindreas with heavy wounds that painted him, and the rest of his ivory coat became painted by his enemy's blood. He had finished it though, before delivering a monologue to the wolves who would soon be his subjects. And then he had left. Time had passed without meaning and it had been days, a week perhaps? He knew that there were things he was supposed to be doing, but he had no clue what they were. Aindreas had always been a follower, a pack member, a warrior, a servant, a knight. He had never been or even thought of being an alpha. And so while he knew alphas did things... he had no clue what those things were. Aside from the obvious of course - accepting pack members, patrolling... but isn't that what the ranked wolves did too? What tasks made an alpha different?

It was enough to give him a headache.

Still, it was that that commanded his thoughts. He was too stressed out about what he supposed to be doing to actually do anything or to think straight. He knew enough wolves in the area that he would have been able to get advice from, but he never even though of going to them - Pierce, Chenzii, even Athene... but no. Instead he decided to suffer on his own and figure it out. After all, his father had entrusted the throne to him and commanded him to rule... but Aindreas' question was whether a King could ever really be made. Kalgalath had been a natural leader that others trusted, and he had ruled with graceful ease. Pierce had been much the same - charismatic, strong, king but firm, and wolves had flocked to him when he had taken over Stormy's throne. But Aindreas was not like that - he had always been a bit of a recluse, and did not know how to come back from that.

And thus Aindreas had wandered, each step pulling at his stiff hairs caked in blood and gore and sending - at first at least - delicate tendrils of cracks along his painted pelt. But that had been days ago. Now there were firm crevices to be found through his fur's canvas, and he looked like some monster that had crawled from the depths of hell. His snowy pelt was a deep crimson, and the only part that peeked through the refuse were his pure blood orbs. When first he had thought to rinse himself off, he had headed to Staircase Falls, both to base and to think as it was renowned as being his father's favorite thinking place. But there had been another there, and so he had fled to Leisure Lake instead. He had been loathe to taint these waters with the evidence upon him because the lake sat at the edge of Aurora Borealis' terra, but he had no choice. But he did choice to skirt his father's land - no.... they were his lands now - to get to the lake rather than go through them. Crystalline orbs swept the surrounding woods as he looked for any sign of an approaching figure, wanting to avoid others at all costs, and was thankful when such feats were not warranted. Just as he broke the tree line he paused, scanning the beach and exhaled in relief when he found it empty. At a sudden sprint, he launched himself toward the water, only to skid to a halt as he ran past a patch of grass and registered the smallest bit of movement - a wolf that had gone unnoticed before. His heart leapt into his chest as Aindreas realized that perhaps stopping would now be worse - she had been resting but now would no doubt wake from the noise and would see first an apparent demon looming over her. His mind scrambled for an appropriate response - run to the water, run to the wood... but instead he remained immobile, a stammering jumble of incoherent words pooling out of him. "... uh... gla..do...um...you...I... hi...?"

Through trial and error, pain and suffering,
And their ability to conquer their own faults

Aindreas || Ivoro || Aurora Borealis Alpha || Lonely Heart || Sin, Pandora, Famous, Psycho, Drizzt ||


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