Where once the southern border of Blossom Forest was made by Leisure Lake, the magical rearrangement of the lands has laid there instead a vast, uncrossable ocean. The shore differs as you travel along it. Tall mountainous cliffs arise on the western part and at one point, the large river that runs through Blossom Forest opens up at its tributary into a well sheltered cove. As you come more eastward, the towering peaks shorten into rocky foothills. A large section of the shore is inaccessible to most, as Uyaraut has claimed it as their own. But if you skirt around their territory, the hills disappear, swallowed up into the land until it is as flat as the eye can see. The vibrant greens dull into short and dry browns and tans, and the land dries and cracks apart until it melds into The Waste - the desert that forms Blossom Forestís easternmost border.

For those looking to hunt here, there are of course the fish within the ocean, along with crabs, seals and urchins. For on the shore, there are seagulls, herons, and ospreys.

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His rich pelt shimmered in the daylight, the rich embers shining all the more. He had always been an excellent specimen of the kalak race, aside from his blindness, and was considered handsome, though in truth there were none who knew him as an older teenager. How many months had he gone without interaction with another varg? At any rate, his pelt was all the healthier and stronger now that his diet nearly entirely was consisted of fish - they were rich in fats and oils and ensured that his skin and hairs grew in smoothly. His was a coat rich in deep reds, and the dark tones proved to be a thermal blanket, even in the dead of summer, but Tiresias did not mind the head. It was the cold he had suffered through alone, and at least here at the lake he could find the comfort of shade or the cooling touch of the lake. In the winter he had stumbled around, searching for any sort of shelter to brace him from the harsh winds, any sort of structure to keep the snow from covering his pelt and freeze him to death. No... the heat was nothing. Perhaps this summer would be a harsh one, yes, but with the lake as his home, he would not be much bothered by it.

But it was the approach of another that bothered him instead. Tiresias had grown as comfortable here at the lake as he had ever been in Cold Summers. He knew now the sound of crabs skittering across the gravel near the water, the light shifting of sound when it was disrupted by the wind, versus the crunch when it was disrupted by weight of a creature. He knew where the later came upon the shore and understood the tides that affected the height of the water. He did not need his eyes to know that another had invaded on his privacy... only this place was not just his, was it? Tiresias lifted his head, his audettes flickering about until they settled upon the location of the beast, and then he turned both his head and his pools toward that direction, staring with his sightless eyes at Kijika. This stranger would not be able to mark him as blind, however, for his orbs were not painted pale like almost all others, but instead were a pair of vibrant emeralds. He kept them centered in their sockets in order to "stare down" whatever wolf had interrupted him in his solitude. Most often when other wolves saw fit to visit the lake, Tiresias had made himself scarce. After all, he knew his own kind all too well, and from what his mother and then Eerie had told him about the clan, he knew they would come for him eventually. Whether it would be to pull him to the throne or to slay him to keep him from it, he didn't know and honestly he didn't care. The vile ways of his people was abhorrent and he had no desire to lead a clan so corrupt.

But there would be no running from this stranger, no hiding away. He had been seen no doubt. Briefly, Tiresias shifted his cranium so that he could rise and face wherever the stranger lay while standing. He remembered everything he had been taught - that being weak was dangerous, and so he must always hide his weaknesses. And so both Shae and Eerie had taught him how to cast his gaze, how to use his other senses to choose his path. And, for now at least, his current path laid in interacting with this varg. Tiresias inhaled deeply and nodded his head - a brute, then. "Do you wish to have your own solitude? Or did you simply not wish to intrude upon mine? Which is your reasoning for sighting upon me and yet making not a single peep of introduction, no attempt at an introduction... and yet neither did you leave. Tell me now, stronger, which it is." The bruteling's vocals were cool - not quite with a biting chill but rather with the effect of rushed apathy, in which he wished to get to the bottom of the it all and leave as soon as possible.

||Tiresias||Teenager||Cold Summers Lost Heir of Faraway||Son of a Broken Home||Azura||




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