Once this place used to hold the yin and yang scenery of Blossom Field. Now, there are miles of winding tundra. To the north, this tundra is cruel and dry, with wisping weaves of tall grasses. The ground is cracked and cold, and it hardly is ever moistened by dearly desired rainfall. To the south, the tundra becomes more prosperous - meadows of flowers and herbs grace the ground. Part of this connects near Elebeam Weargtreow - however it is an impassible field of poppy, which will put any wolf trying to cross it into a deep slumber, and eventually die.

Those looking to hunt here will find mice, snakes, and rabbits, along with pronghorns, bison, and javalinas.




Her uncertainty was instant, triangular ears smoothed against her crown and stormy eyes flickering over the monstrous proportions of his body. Kershov knew he was rather . . . difficult to take in for some wolves. His size alone intimidated many females. Then, of course, the matter of his face . . . or what was left of it. Time might have stopped the bleeding and smoothed the edges of a few scars, yet the fact remained that the poltergeist’s hellish mask was still starkly horrifying. Some of the glances he’d received in the past were naked with revulsion—as if the one staring could not believe that Kershov had survived such a wound. All that twisted, dully gleaming tissue . . . pearly and dark, as if still festering with infection . . . it no longer caused the winter dragon any pain, though he supposed he could understand why strangers flinched upon glimpsing his teeth without a veil of flesh to cover them.

Ker tried his very best to appear nonthreatening, posture neutral and bottomless black eyes respectfully skimming just over the lady’s head. Satisfaction brightened his gaze when at last the fae decided he was no danger, rolling back onto her spine with limbs relaxed. “Lady Milo: a pleasure.” Taking her cue, the enormous beast lowered himself to his ventrum, forelegs stretched before him as he relaxed. Well . . . relaxed being a relative term for the warlord. He certainly didn’t think that Milo was capable of killing him in cold blood—and presently he wasn’t interested in killing her. “No worries. You were not expecting a stranger to interrupt you. Surely, though, a lovely she-wolf such as yourself isn’t all alone in these lands?”

The glacial gladiator tilted his head, appearing for all the world like a concerned older gentleman inquiring about the safety of a young lass. He did not want to frighten her, or insinuate that he meant harm should she truly be alone—but he also didn’t quite want to flirt yet. Milo surely was a pretty thing—in a girlish, innocent sort of way—but that wasn’t exactly in Kershov’s mind at the moment. And as for Milo . . . well. He wouldn’t blame her if the thought of him romantically interested in herself caused some alarm.


【Free – tied to none – father to Kirastasia and Kavik – LSVK】


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