When solid ground grows soft with emerald moss and rivulets of black mud, and coffee-colored water pours slowly around the trunks of densely carpeted trees, this marks the beginning of Laod Mor: the swamp of Blossom Forest. Time itself seems to slow to a soporific crawl . . . the humid jungle air grows stagnant, thick with the scent of rich flooded earth and an abundance of green things that can be found nowhere else—except perhaps Caidir Olc. In some areas of the swamp, water rises so high the only way to cross it is to crawl across fallen logs or massive roots arching from their liquid beds; in other places a wolf might wade easily through the mire—or find a fortunate stretch of mostly dry earth. Pieces of the great river, Glaesfaet Sceawere, also slice through from time to time: small falls that feed into surprisingly clear pools, only to terminate into tar-like pits. Of course, Laod Mor’s beauty shines brightest at night. Here, fireflies gather at all times of the year . . . suffusing the shadowy place with millions of twinkling lights.

Those looking to hunt here of course find a myriad of water prey, including caiman, turtles, fish, crayfish, otters, and toads.


;;{we can't all be cheerful};;

It wasn't long before the lass had sensed another before she spoke. But even though she sensed the other fae; she did catch her off guard. Jumping slightly she looked up to where she saw one of the wolves she had accepted into her own pack. She wagged her tail above her back in a friendly manner. That I am Kirastasia. Her immediate reaction was to drop into a play bow; looking up at Kirastasia, her plume swaying as she watched her laying on moss above the water.

Grey paws connected to pillars bounded over to just before Kirastasia, going into another bow trying to get her to play with her. Is miss Kirastasia just gonna lay there and let her queen play by herself? Milo let out a small laugh, the cheerful wolf was everything that led up to cheerful and sometimes even more. I mean, you have a home, a queen who cares, and a possible rank. she flashed her fangs in a smile, plume still swaying in the air and her body still down in play bow.

The white lass hoped that Kirastasia would take up the offer to play with her in the water. Milo may be an adult, but she acted as if she was a child, a playful, small child.



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