Glorall

Disaster has struck!
Flooding from the north has taken its toll on Glorall. The large tides combined with the increase in water draining from the Ruieze River has flooded the lower regions of the pack. The sandy soil, compounded with so much water, has toppled a lot of trees. Traveling is difficult even when the water is shallower, with the sandy soil below being difficult to find traction on. The daily tides seem to keep the level of flooding fairly consistent, too.

During the low tide, wolves may be able to move around the higher dunes (with some difficulty) but during high tide, the pack is almost impossible to safely navigate. Swimming is possible, but the risk of currants and surges from either the ocean or the river are very real. The island off of the coast of Glorall is untouched by either issue, although it is incredibly difficult to find your way there without being an adept swimmer with plenty of good luck!

Note: Glorall will reopen once 30 posts have been completed (or at Staff discretion). During this time, new threads will receive a 'Surprise','Disaster', and prizes. Glorall is currently not open for challenges.


THE HERE AND NOWALPHA OF GLORALL
Elohim

Return to Lunar Children
Dark! Dark!
IP: 174.195.134.177
Posted on November 2, 2017 at 02:11:31 PM by Underidge

This is unlike the first meeting or even that desperate need like before. There is fire and challenge in her eyes as she stares him down and his lips curl in restrained dominion. He is conflicted - she is Eden but not and he cannot move. So he merely stands with that threatening aura about him as he speaks, grinding the words around his teeth, forcing his tongue to move and form such things. He is typically prone to silence - loud noises infuriate him. It was a gift that his pups had grown to adulthood without being put out of their misery for they were loud creatures at first, but had fast learned that quiet was demanded. All save Blackthorne and he had been intent on culling the abomination as a pup but Sarabi had saved him. Likely she regretted it now. Natiya was like a phantom, often forgotten in the back of Under’s mind since no one ever saw her.

It was odd to be here in front of Kamala, daughter of Eden. Even Underidge understands the curiosity of it, the strangeness, but instinct won’t allow him to ignore it so he demands her name and her eyes seem to light with that fire. His ears flick back, his fur rising, but he remains grounded with his claws tipped into the earth like an anchor. She is well kept compared to his gnarled and matted fur, the utter lack of care apparent in his gangly appearance. What’s it to you? The question is answered with a growl of disapproval - she was a spitfire and he did not like it. She was not a Paravana and he ached for Paravana.

“Just... tell me,” he spits out, obviously trying to restrain himself from something. She does not know how wild he is inside, the madness that eats at him, and the anchor that binds them is what keeps him constrained. Plus, her father, a silent ghost between them. “Kamala.” Her name is sharp on his tongue, spitting and hissing, like a sword in his mouth. “I am Underidge.” Now he takes one step forward, his back legs quivering from holding himself back. “You are....”. Mine! But he pauses, a low growl once more, before saying with forced civility, “my imprint.”

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