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 Forest’s 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.

Refresh/Reload

The Ice King
IP: 174.233.138.211

The wolf upon the beach was unlike anything that could have previously been imagined in his mind. Kershov had traveled to many different places, lived many different lives, and thought that there were a few things that could ever surprise him anymore. But seeing a wolf use a piece of shell as decoration in her coat… Seeing her tie leaves together in order to carry things and sling it around her shoulders… It was odd at the very least, and she looked crazy as hell. Of course, Kershov found himself intrigued. He swam toward the shore, and saw that as he neared, her pelt was dripping as well, soaking wet as if she had been in the waters of the ocean on purpose. Kershov reached down, his claws digging into the gritty sand that lined the bottom, and he finally began to walk up the shore. The slope was gentle here, but he knew if he went back out towards the sea, there would be a sharp drop off. He had been lucky, really, that the tide had been what it was, or else he knew he would have had a hell of a time getting to shore. He would’ve had to deal with the undertow, the swirling dangerous currents that would have sought to push him into the jagged rocks. But instead, feet was kind and allowed him easy access to shore. Only to place him in front of this beautiful creature in front of him who had captured his intrigue. His ebony pools caught onto her and pulled, watching her slip the sling of leaves back around her neck. He wanted to know where she was from-what group of wolves had thought up such an ingenious thing-a way to carry things… Or rather, a way to carry more things than their mouth would normally allow. Things that their mouth would crush. Not that he had uses for such things… But back when he had his horde of healers, it would have been helpful for them to carry around there herbs so that the patient did not have to travel to wherever the healers had hidden their precious plants. His mind wandered to the remnant memory of Kahlan, and he briefly wondered if she had ever considered implementing such a thing. If she was still alive that is. Too many months had gone by since he had last seen the healer, and his last memory of her was hazy and jumbled … He could not even say if it was truly a real memory, or the memory of some random dream. After all, his beast had taken hold of him during that time, and he could never trust things that his beast showed it to him.

But she was not here - this wolf was. Kershov smiled at her, tilting his head to the left so that his distorted and gruesome facade was fully on display for her. His torn muscle rippled slightly as he sent his lips over his teeth, cleaning them of the salt water that had seeped in from his little dip in the ocean. For that is how he would tell the tale of any asked - he dared the waters… The fact that he was having nightmares, that he had jumped over a cliff, would go unstated. But this she wolf seemed to have no problem with the fact that he was exiting the ocean - in fact, she seemed just as intrigued by him as he was by her. She took note of him eyeballing her, and moved once more into the water. Her time within its gentle lapping waves was short-lived, and she exited almost as quickly as she had entered. But then her tongue was let loose, flying upon him with snarky intent. Kershaw grinned, pulling tight his scarred muzzle, and at first he said nothing. His tall ivory pillars went against the pull of the ocean and strode him out of it and onto the dry shore. He could feel the sand working its way between his hairs, creeping deep through his thick pelt down to his skin. But he ignored it, and instead circled the lass, looking over her for any other surprises. “My… Apologies Madame. I of course did not mean to be rude, but my eyes stare where they will. You are a thing quite unique in these lands, so I must admit and confess to studying you quite… Closely. What is that thing that you carry, and what do you carry within it? I have never seen another wolf mold such a thing.

Now it was time for his mind to flit to Kari -the long legged gorgeous kalak who so frequently taunted him and tested his boundaries. But he had been swift in finding her own boundary - water. He had thrown her in, and she had immediately taken to drowning. Her fear was the water, and yet this she wolf had no fear of it. The comparison was striking, he found himself wanting to discover her boundaries, her weaknesses, her fears. That was what gave him the power that outside wolves seemed to fear him for. They thought him cruel and manipulative? That was true, and he certainly used it for his own games, but he also did it so that he could exploit those weaknesses and mold them into something different, shape them into a strength instead. At least, if they were his pack members that is. The weaknesses he found in those who sought to set themselves against him would find themselves at a different end of the spectrum altogether. Now the question was, where did this fae lay? Or would she be just another ship passing in the night? Would she be a harbor for him to land within, for refueling him, for entertainment? Would she be a ship that would join his fleet? Or would she be one whose cannons would set upon him?

Atakask, is it?” He spoke sharply and rolled the name over his tongue one more time, committing it to memory. It was sharp and harsh, and for some reason it reminded him of the new titles to the packs that had sprung out of nowhere. Just as she had sprung out of nowhere. “Well Atakask, my name is Kershov, and you should know that you currently stand precariously close to the boundary of my pack.” He gestured with his muzzle to the sheer cliff to his left, her right. “But really what matter is that to you? None, I would gather.” He ran his tongue over his teeth and inhaled sharply. “Where do you come from? I must say, I must know.

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