Do not go gentle into that good night (closed!) | Boards2Go

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

Do not go gentle into that good night (closed!)
IP: 174.195.129.13
Posted on June 29, 2017 at 02:22:51 PM by Blackthorne & Zafira

It was disappointing for me to return to Glorall without my brother. He made sure to escort me home but I begged him at the border to not leave. He was insistent, however, that it was safer for me that way and I had tilted my head in confusion. Just what had my brother gotten himself into? Still, I obeyed. That is what I did ultimately - I followed in the orders of family but Zharko was the closest of them all. I felt dejected but also buoyant because he was alive and we had been reunited. I promised to see him tomorrow, smiling impishly before practically dancing back to the hole in the cliff that I had called home. It is a tight squeeze to enter but it afforded me much privacy and others would never think to make it home. It was a bit too chilly, a bit too wet, but it sufficed for me. I was accustomed to discomfort. Mother had left me cold much of the time in our shared den.

Still, it felt lonesome this day and as I sat in the cool confines I felt a swell of sadness that finally prompted me to leave its safety. It was a rather hot day despite the breeze from the sea and I padded along the beach with little purpose. Simply trying to find something to complete me or ease myself. Whatever I was missing wasn't coming, but instead, I saw a lean obsidian figure heading towards me, silver maw pointed in my direction.

-----

He moves with a lethal purpose, each step confident while his odd charcoal eyes flash silver in the turning of the light. Those same eyes fasten upon the strawberry, gray, sienna figure that had cried out so joyously when she had spied his confidante, Zharko. And in that moment Thorne had grown angry. Angry that his supposed friend had hidden her from him - did not a follower tell their commander everything? What had sealed the deal was the way the smaller boy had flashed his eyes at Thorne, a low threat that said he would not brook threat against her. Thorne had long learned that the easiest and swiftest method of hurting others was not through physical pain but emotional anguish. It was why he tormented Underidge with his own failures and he asked once, with the snide smirk he had become accustomed to, where Paravana was.

It had resulted in a nice bit of bloodshed between them but he had felt validated. Zafira meant nothing to him but everything to Zharko, and Zharko was obedient to Thorne. Disobedience was intolerable. Besides, he had tried to protect that wretch princess female that Thorne had chased from Glorall. "My my, what have we here? A lost little birdie! Clipped your wings lately?" The girl gave him a quizzical if somewhat nervous look. 'No?' She replied with a soft voice of confusion. A sly grin splits his face as he draws closer, eyes dancing to her ears. "Those ears are so pretty and healthy. Wouldn't you like to match your brother? I know how close you two are." A low threat had begun to thread through his silver-tongued voice and she looked shaken at the predatory gleam in his eyes.

For a moment they stand in suspense and then he lunges for her ear. With a squeal of fear she back peddles and then takes off across Glorall with Blackthorne at her heels, snarling and nipping, driving her from the border. As she crosses into the free lands he comes to a halt, a hard edge to his face, and watches as she disappears into the brush.

Now let Zharko fret. If he had only asked Thorne for his permission things would be different.

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