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.


I'm sorry about your life, you had it pretty rough

It's easy to get lost in unfamiliar lands, and she was finding this to be true quite quickly, because she certainly knows that she has no idea where she is. She wouldn't consider getting lost a completely bad thing since she had nowhere else to go to begin with, nobody anywhere that would be waiting for her return. The cold of winter was seeping into her once mangled limb and making it ache, slowing her progress and making it hard to hunt when she feared that it would crumble beneath her and lay her flat in the frosted snows. Scales lay like a dull armor over her legs, something she had noticed when she had woken one day in these lands, though she still isn't certain if they're real or if she had dreamed them up as some weird sort of coping mechanism.

She knew that eventually she'd get her bearings, find her way out of being completely and utterly lost. She flexed her lame leg before setting it on the frosted ground again, repeating this over and over again as a sort of stretching exercise, her ears flickering and senses alert should any living creature approach and interrupt her attempts to make her limb more limber again. She wouldn't want someone else sneaking up behind her and finding out that she was lame, because they might take her as an easy prey or kill. Thankfully her lame limb, which used to be riddled in scars and very clearly weaker than the others, was also covered in that strange serpentine armor, masking the fact that there was anything wrong with it, at least visibly.

She had made a den underneath some tree roots once she had realized that she was completely and utterly lost, pretty well-hidden and cluttered with random things she had chosen to decorate it with. She had set out to explore the heart of the lands around it this morning, managing to avoid any dangerous areas or fallen trees barring her path, before leaping and realizing that her once severely lame leg was not working very well, and had stopped here to try to get more life into it. Stretches alone probably wouldn't do more than warm it, but she could always hope.

After her leg threatened to lock up completely because she was pushing it just a little too hard, she began to make her way back towards her den, cold trills occasionally running up that damaged foreleg. During her wander back to her den she found a spot in a river that wasn't completely frozen, and it seemed like it would be safe enough to drink from and wash some accumulated grime off of anywhere that might have gotten dirty. She plunged her muzzle into the frigid water, drinking her fill as she scattered droplets of water everywhere. It felt good and sustaining, but she really should be heading back to her den. She could rest her damamged limb there, rest the rest of her weary body, think about what would come next.

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