Glorall

Disaster has struck!
Flooding from the north has taken its toll on Glorall. The large tides combined with the increase in water draining from the Ruieze River has flooded the lower regions of the pack. The sandy soil, compounded with so much water, has toppled a lot of trees. Traveling is difficult even when the water is shallower, with the sandy soil below being difficult to find traction on. The daily tides seem to keep the level of flooding fairly consistent, too.

During the low tide, wolves may be able to move around the higher dunes (with some difficulty) but during high tide, the pack is almost impossible to safely navigate. Swimming is possible, but the risk of currants and surges from either the ocean or the river are very real. The island off of the coast of Glorall is untouched by either issue, although it is incredibly difficult to find your way there without being an adept swimmer with plenty of good luck!

Note: Glorall will reopen once 30 posts have been completed (or at Staff discretion). During this time, new threads will receive a 'Surprise','Disaster', and prizes. Glorall is currently not open for challenges.


THE HERE AND NOWALPHA OF GLORALL
Elohim

Return to Lunar Children
Rage rage against the dying of the light
IP: 174.196.138.143
Posted on May 31, 2017 at 04:14:41 PM by Blackthorne

This wolf does not cow beneath the charcoal eyes of Blackthorne but neither does he rise up to a challenge. It is only that which keeps the silver and black male from attacking or retreating. It piques his curiosity more than knowing this strange wolf has been calling for him. There had been no words of import from Eden to him despite his claims of having killed the child of Aranck despite his own fathers lack of fulfilling his own task, a fact he rubbed in quite frequently. There would come a day that the two wolves could no longer survive in a pack together and when that time came it would be a toss up to see who conquered. Thorne was confident it would be him for his father was a weak zealot for a religion that was insane. The Shade never spoke to him nor did he see the same wonder that his half sisters did, their fervent belief earning his disgust. Natiya was conflicted but she would never compromise her position as his left hand for such an asinine thing and so he was assured of his lot in life.

Blackthorne has grown well in his short life, his body well muscled and structurally sound from exertion. There are a few scratches and scrapes beneath his fur from his dominant fights with Zharko and even the bitter fighting with his father but they will heal and he will return to his former form. The silver cowlick atop the crown of his head stands to attention even as he blinks slowly at Thor and his ears fold back in dismay. "I need no mentor," he growls in a low and deadly tone, although one ear flicks forward and a calculating look enters his face. "Who are you to call yourself thus?" There is a demand for an answer in his voice, a sudden firmness to his step as he paces closer with the prowl of a supreme predator. He is young and smaller than Thor but prime meat regardless: was this some test? He is assured this is not of his fathers making for Underidge would rater see his corpse than see him trained for skills.

He pads around Thor with a pointed look, tongue sweeping across his muzzle and a hungry glaze to his eyes. The need to fight, to dominate, is clear and fairly sizzles in the air but he does not attack. Who is this wolf? What slight against Thorne has he come to deliver? For he would learn that should he insult him that the boy would not tolerate it - he was the master of his own fate and it would take delicate webbing to ensnare him.

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