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
it doesn't exist if you can hide it behind your teeth.
IP: 110.140.186.132

how long will we blame the devils on our shoulders
and pose like angels on the outside

Her eagerness to leave is seemingly replaced with an eagerness to speak; for herself, she claims, and not for Zelda or Taviora. How curious, how strange, how very unlike that man Alistair or any other that comes creeping by the borders. In any case, where she glistens, I smirk with amusement, tasting her words with keen intrigue as she tip toes about. I wait for some moments to respond and she leans in then to speak once more, careful and small words that bring about a hm of amusement. "You flatter yourself freely," I shrug. After all, I spoke only of what the average visitor wants, no? Her company is intriguing but only for its failure to be completely average - never did I say which side of average she might fall on. Still, at least this proves to be more interesting than any other that has come for some time.

"As for being tired," I pause, my tongue lashing out to meet the black of my lips as if to taste blood, "does Taviora permit you to speak in such a way about their leaders?" A brow slants up before I smirk it away. "Come stand on our shores so that you might report back to the others of your success." Now that is my invitation and I waste no time dawdling with the formality of such a thing before I am quick to pivot and move towards one of the sheltered paths towards the shorelines.

The paths are always rough now, though; branches lean overhead, forcing one to duck from time to time, and grass whips across the narrow, trodden down paths. The winds blow sand even so far inland and I watch her from the corner of my vision as I move her along, towards where many others have been. I suppose Glorall has a welcoming place of sorts: it is a simple patch of shoreline with a view of our eastern island, the path to it hidden behind the waves and curves of the land. "You are a diplomat - choose a name for me. I have never cared for them," I shrug once more, breaking the silence as I lead her up the dunes that slope towards the sea. "What do you hope to achieve from this ball, Mara Sov?" I meet her eyes then, levelly, with all the blandness of a flat sea.

html & image by castlegraphics


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