Once this place used to hold the yin and yang scenery of Blossom Field. Now, there are miles of winding tundra. To the north, this tundra is cruel and dry, with wisping weaves of tall grasses. The ground is cracked and cold, and it hardly is ever moistened by dearly desired rainfall. To the south, the tundra becomes more prosperous - meadows of flowers and herbs grace the ground. Part of this connects near Elebeam Weargtreow - however it is an impassible field of poppy, which will put any wolf trying to cross it into a deep slumber, and eventually die.

Those looking to hunt here will find mice, snakes, and rabbits, along with pronghorns, bison, and javalinas.

Refresh/Reload

a future corrupt.
IP: 96.60.224.79


no man can inherit a bloodline
such as this man-made destructive power


Nike remained trapped beneath itís heavy frame for only a few moments, but to her, it felt like ages. The time seemed to pass so slowly before itís silhouette began to rise, unsteady appendages pushing it slowly from the femmeís delicate frame, as well as the frozen earth. Instead of saying a word to her, however, it maneuvered a few feet away, flimsily taking hold of a long deceased deer. The petite wolfess rose then, emerald jewels studying it as it devoured the aged meat. ďIf youíre hungryÖ I can get you something fresher.Ē A subtle frown caressed her kissers, but Nike retained her distance, not wanting to disturb the demon anymore than she already had.

At last, the demon turned from itís meal, now directing itís attention back towards the monochrome femme. Why can't you just leave well enough alone. I don't want to keep living, what is so hard to understand about that? I am a monster. She shifted uneasily on her paws, a thin layer of snow and ice crunching with each of her anxious steps. ďI do understand, but I canít . . . just let you . . . die.Ē Nikeís sweet vocals wavered, emerald spheres looking to meet with those of the demon. A monster . . .? It seemed like no such thing.. All she saw was a varg that needed help. There was no time to argue this point, however; in the next second, the obsidian and ivory demon had crashed to the earth once again. Nike rushed to itís side, a gentle breeze sending a ripple through their robes and a soft chill along the opposing varg. She was surprised at itís following request. Itís tone was different now, itís gentle hues reaching, searching, for her bright jewels. ďIf you insist on staying could you lay with me. I'm not making enough body heat to stay warm.Ē

ďOf course . . .Ē Nike speaks uneasily, however, desperate to help and heart wrenched, her curvaceous silhouette meets instantly with the hardened earth. Her frame slides gently along the demonís, her muzzle snuggling against itís shoulder and working its path to settle along itís flank. Their similar coats merge, a collaboration of obsidian and ivory as her inked bodice encases and curls tightly around the demonís larger one, Nikeís darkened crown perched along itís frail silhouette. ďIs this better?Ē Her voice comes out softly, a gentle and heartfelt whisper. It is a stranger to her, a varg who wished only for her departure immediately upon her arrival; but, strangely, she feels deeply about itís wellbeing. The monochrome femme would do anything to make sure it was well . . . to change this wish of death that it obtained.

N I K E
young adult .x. queen .x. no heart .x. Crith-Thalmhainn


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