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.

Return to Lunar Children

Do not go gentle into that good night
IP: 174.195.136.177

His tastes are much more peculiar than her own and the force that drives him to hang around her is an ancient and powerful one. For a wolf so dedicated to instincts it is only necessary for him to follow them in this moment and a struggle to maintain the sort of acceptable distance that Azariah requires. It is why he basks in the residual ripple of pain from his muzzle for her mouth now is stained with his scent and his own is marked by her. There is a binding in such markings - the way he binds those of his followers with his own. The ties born of blood are much stronger than filthy, lying words, and it pleases him that she has marked him even if she knows not about such things. He did not enjoy her dominance and yet he likes it - a twisted concept is it not? Born into this world a rager, screaming and demanding to be on top, he yields for the moment to this female because he understands she is like him even if she does not recognize it. Fate would not have bound them if she was too weak to be his half.

Despite the way she scorns him, he is focused upon her. Her voice is soothing to him as well as enticing and his shoulders twitch with the urge to draw closer. A wolf length? Preposterous. That is what she wants and it is a struggle for Blackthorne had never much cared for what others wanted. If they were strong enough they could take it for themselves. Yet he had settled with her assault and he tries. That is an accomplishment she does not even realize - simply trying. A foxish grin graces his silvered muzzle at her words. "I will listen," he replies, because he senses that is what she wants. What does he care of her non foolish parents? Nothing but if she wanted to tell him then he would listen because it seemed listening was what he would have to do near her. Since, you know, she likes to talk. Too much.

He can feel her disgust like a burr in his side and the grin falls into a hardened expression, charcoal eyes flashing silver as he lifts them up to scan her face and the lightning strikes in the distance. These rules are simple for him but complex for her. He won't back down though. He has tamed himself, for the moment, to offer a small piece of control for her but Thorne cannot and will not change his being to suit what she considers right. Such is the struggle with strangers - they were all different.

She throws a paw over her muzzle in chagrin and exasperation and he merely watches her calmly, ears flicking back in annoyance at her admonishment and his face clearly registering "what the fuck do you want them, woman?" On it but he voices none of it. Finally she trails off and he bites back a sigh of relief as the rumble of the storm takes over. She isn't through. Instead she changes tactics and stretches and while she glances away he inches forward, basically dragging his back end, but pauses in his advance when she looks back. A wolfs length was too far - his skin itched to be near her. She turns back to point at the cloud and he inches closer again, frowning hard and glancing at the cloud when her face begins to arc back in his direction. "Yes, tall," he agrees with a dry tone as if this is the most uninspiring and boring topic ever. It was.

The word fire actually catches his attention though and his eyes seem to flare with their own light as he looks down at her, about half a wolfs length now. "I have seen fire and felt it," he says with a hiss in his voice. "It is warm and consuming. Do you feel my fire within you? I feel yours." The bond seems stronger the closer he is and his heart tries to rearrange its pattern to match hers but there is a fiendish part of him that cannot be helped.

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