Rage rage against the dying of the light

The Grotto

Disaster has struck!
Years ago, an earthquake broke open several entrances into a deep, winding series of subterranean systems. It was thought that deep below, underground rivers snaked their way below Moladion. Now, flooding in the Northern reaches of Moladion has proven this theory to be true.

The Grotto is almost entirely submerged. Many of the entrances are completely inaccessible, and those that are only extend a few hundred feet before ending in water. The lower entrances, however, act almost like a giant drain for Moladion. Water pours down into the Grotto's maw as powerful rapids and waterfalls, and large amounts of debris have build up throughout the area. It can be exceptionally dangerous to travel due to the risk of flash-flooding and dams suddenly breaking, but the Grotto does offer the most consistent access across the floodwaters because of those dams.

Note:The Grotto 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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Rage rage against the dying of the light
IP: 174.195.131.119
Posted on October 31, 2017 at 01:42:39 PM by Blackthorne

What a brave little bird, he thinks, as her shining eyes press closer, a wild tempest spinning within. If she were a storm, she would surely be a tornado, pushing the boundaries to the limits. Her hackles rise and his own silver cowlick is now backed by obsidian fur between his ears, his charcoal eyes flashing to silver while he holds his ground. She is a spitfire but he is a black hole, sucking everything into him, inexorably whirling and consuming. The threat that hovers in the air between them is a stench in his nostrils, that of ash and char.

That depends, she says, and his eyes narrow as he prepares to strike her. Brave but foolish - to challenge him in such a way. It simultaneously insults and thrills him. He is an oxymoron, desiring challenge and submission, both of which this moment seems to imply as she allows the bite to strike her face and his tongue to flick out along his fang to taste her blood. It is electrifying, as is the glow of his eyes and fervent expression on his face.

Then she strikes out and he jerks back, a snarl on his visage, ears flattening. It is tempting to allow her the strike because she is brave enough to do it but his dominant side refuses to simply ALLOW it. No, he will make her work for it. In response he lunges forward, attempting to grip the side of her cheek with his teeth while maybe slamming his shoulder underneath her chin into her neck. She is quick though and likely to strike back at his own vulnerable jawline. But if she wasn�t a fighter, would she even interest him?

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