Glaesfaet Sceawere is the name gifted to the mother river that flows through the center of Blossom Forest, bringing life and sustenance to all of the lands. It breaks off in many places, giving birth to smaller streams and estuaries, but the main body flows from the lake high in the north in Dierne Hrof all the way south down through Uyaraut to empty into the ocean. It is a fresh water river, but down through Uyaraut, the salt water does taint it. In places, parts of the river are underground and run through caverns unseen from aboveground.

Water buffalo grace these shores - with plenty of meat, though at a dangerous cost. Many river trout leap upstream daily.


Thunder Killer

Hurricane of Mexico's massive dragon cranium sweeps around to meet Losa's mismatched pools of violet as she fretts around him, sniffling, and struggling to move him forward. "Bullmoose?... Really?" His voice crackles and breaks from disuse as the obsidian titan raises his brow at the cotton candy princess, her delicate runners physique pressed almost flat against his massive midnight form. Skin hangs, broken, tattered, draped tightly against bone, as if moving might stretch it too far and it will split like a seam pulled too far. Coal hairs painted obsidian stick every which way, some dried into place, some a tarry, sticky texture, as the fresh blood attempts to dry, and clot. 

One paw moves forward, almost a staggering motion, as he concedes to Losa's plea, bones and joints popping as the proud gladiator fights to remain upon his feet. His massive paw pad touches the ground slowly, easing into the motion, as he lifts a second paw, and then a third, and then a fourth. Hurricane of Mexico is suddenly standing with two paws in the icy water, breathless, exhausted. He glances back at Losa, trying to reassure the lithe lass with a glance, that he is okay. That this, is okay. However the motion strains a muscle, a scab tears, new, precious blood flows from his skin, and his glance turns into a grimace of agony that he cannot take back. And immediately he can see the worry in his Princess' eyes. The massive midnight knight turns away, breaking his gaze with a moan. 

Hurricane of Mexico is unsure how he is even still bleeding. How there is any blood left in him at all. Everything feels dry. Crisp. Like a brown autumn leaf left upon the ground. Like if someone were to step upon him, the massive gladiator might just disappear into dust. And if he is dust, there could not possibly be more blood oozing from his shredded skin. 

Hurricane's lightning opticals meet the ground, where the frigid river laps gently at his paws. He could stop here, lower his skull to the earth, and drink. Drink until the river is dry. Drink until the lake is forced to feed back into the streams, and drain that too. Drink until he explodes. But he does not. Instead, the massive dragon moves forward, his steps halting and shaky, one paw in front of the other, bones barely supporting skin. Muscles quivering under the weight of fur. Another step. Hurricane of Mexico now stands to his shoulder in the water. Rushing, racing past him. Moving so fast it threatens to take him with it, let go, let go, it cries, eager to take him away. Away from Losa, away from blossom, down, down, down. 

But he stands strong. Brave. The water downstream is deep crimson, the clear sparkling water laps away at the sticky blood in his fur, staining the water, He watches at it ebbs away, at first a bright, shocking red, fading to the softest pastel of orange, and then it is gone. Dispersed within the river. No longer weighing him down, no longer stopping his joints. The icy water cools his muscles, relaxing them, making them strong, and then suddenly he rears up, a huge arc of water glistens through the air, sparkling as time slows, each crystalline drop a kaleidoscope of colors as they spray toward Losa. And then he crashes back into the water, onto his paws, his strength wavering as the titan lands, a massive wave washing toward the cotton candy princess, ready to soak her should she not move. 

"Thats what you get for calling me a bull moose" Hurricane croaks pitifully as he lowers his head, lapping at the water. As the first few droplets of water enter his throat, the massive beast suddenly realizes how thirsty he is, and how long it must have been since he had a drink of water last. He laps eagerly, as the cold fluid trickles down his throat. He can feel how cold it is, even in his empty belly. Guzzling and gurgling for what feels like eternity, Hurricane of Mexico finally drinks so much water, his belly feels as if it will explode. He lifts his head, looking up at losa, lighting lanterns taking her in finally.

He moves forward, water dripping from his chin, and rolling down his legs in tiny rivers that break off into streams along his appendages. The cool water dribbles from the dark, long hairs on his belly, he is almost clean. Almost presentable. But skin still stretches too tightly across bone, and in this wet state, you can see where his skin hugs his hips, the bones, shiny white, almost protrude through midnight fur, threatens to erupt through at his shoulders, at the blades of his chest. Each carefully sculpted rib almost bursts through at the seams, screaming to be let free. One foot plops in front of the other, brave, strong, but still shaky. The water rolls from his dark fur, and as the water recedes to just lapping at his paws, the colossal beast shakes, sending little flecks of water racing across the air, flying into space. He steps forward, sharp yellow eyes focused on Losa's pretty pastel runners form, stopping just short of walking into her. Breathless. But not from walking. Hurricane's massive skull brushes down, sweeping into Losa, his chin pressing against the crown of her head, running down her elegantly sculpted neck, nares pressing into her fur. "I missed you." He murmurs, his voice soft, deep. The vibrations getting lost in her fluffy down coat. 

Hurricane presses forward, his chest to her shoulder, head running down her spine, taking her in, A paw sweeps forward, pulling her closer as he settles his head against the back of her neck. "You, are never leaving my sight again."


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