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.

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ZHARKO
-lift up your head-

His teeth remained bared to their points. His actions different from how most wolves would have acted and reacted. Punishment for nothing from his father, and attacks from nowhere from Blackthorne had taught him different and solidified his determination to live. Thorne had tested him in ways that were cruel and unheard of, constantly testing, exploiting, and challenging Zharko’s weaknesses. As he slipped under Grimoire, he was determined to keep to what he had learned let him live. Despite the pain in his ankles, he continued to move, his teeth gritted in pain, challenge, and a stubborn refusal to give up.

Her seemingly sudden shift in demeanor had the pup more on alert for a second. His head ducked lower and an audible growl was issued in case she tried to shift again to attacking him. Instead, she greeted him as an acquaintance and very nearly squashed him under her bulk. A small yelp of surprise came from him as he scrambled out from under her and turned to face her once again. At last he was able to breath freely when he came to realize she was not about to attack him further. He sat down in front of her, as a price paid theoretically should, but his face and expression was for more complex and calculating. The fear she had tried to instil in him was nowhere to be seen on his features. Though he was determined to live, the life that had chosen him assured him death was never too far.

His unscarred brow rose and a small quirk of his lips when she continued to address him. Zharko. Was the simple answer to her simple question. He leaned back on his haunches, making himself a little more comfortable. His thoughts raced back to when she first met him, her first words to him. He was worth something to her, be it Aranck’s intended price or not. Red eyes narrowed in calculation. In his mind he knew where he stood with many in his life. He knew who and what he was, his place, and his purpose. But she had implied different seasons ago. What am I to you? What was a pound of flesh, a blood debt, and a price paid to a wolf like Grimoire.

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