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.

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The fluffy kalak puppy was told to stay in her miniscule den while her mother went to pick up something to eat, but she is gentle in her rebellion. She pokes her muzzle out of the den slightly, her mercurial silver eyes striking against the backdrop of earthen darkness as she watches the outside world, the feeling of loneliness sweeping through her body even though her mother had left mere moments before. Her mother's orders kept her from skittering out of the den and running after her, and even though she really wanted to be good, there was a part of her that wanted to forego being good to dip out and see the world around her.

The kalak pup whimpers softly to herself, wanting her mother to come back and lay a comforting lick upon her head. She knew she was almost a year old, that soon she would be expected by many to grow up and start being less pitiful, but all she wants is for her mother to return to her side. Her black limbs are folded beneath her carefully as she waits, wondering if maybe she would meet any other pups around these lands that might like to play with her. Or maybe she would meet a brave, strong huntress, someone that was a great role model, like in one of those stories her mother used to whisper to her when she was supposed to go to sleep.

Another drawn out whine is plucked effortlessly from her lips, and yet she remains safe within the den as instructed, even if she wants nothing to dart off in some epic quest to find her mother. White tipped tail curls around her face and the rest of her body, her strikingly white flecked face almost seeming to blend in with it, as she not for the first time begins to not really like being so small and vulnerable. She knows that there are larger strangers out and about in these lands, and all sorts of dangerous predators that might like to make a snack of an adventuring pup.

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