Perhaps changed most of all out of all of the packs is this place. It was stripped out of its forested home and now instead lays at the edge of an ocean. The vast sparkling eternity of the water lays to the south of the land, while the rest of the land is made of rocky outjuttings. Gone are the trees, and all that remains for greenery are the short shrubs that dot the paths in the rock, and the moss that grows thanks to the spray of the waves. Further toward the shore, barnacles are a plenty, and look to cut the pads of those who slip on the wet surface. These extend out into the water itself, and the tough land has multiple caverns scraped into it, providing ample dens for the wolves that live there. Depending on the tide, however, the lower caverns may flood, and the vicious swirling water may prove to be dangerous as there is a strong undertide ready to pull unsuspecting swimmers to their doom. Even the tide itself is powerful enough to push intruders against one cliff or another. The ocean does provide, however, plenty of food for those who brave the waters - there are many breeds of seals and sea lions, though the males that protect each of these are vicious and territorial. There are also turtles that come ashore to breed and to lay their eggs - both the adults and the eggs themselves can provide sustenance to the wolves. But they must take care - the water is deep enough to allow sharks to come to shore from the depths below. Those unwilling to venture the waves or wet their paws with the moist sand of the shore can find snakes and hares in the rocky outcroppings, but they must beware the Komodo dragon and other monitor lizards that perch upon the shore - they are swift and move in groups, not to mention they carry venom in their bite that causes immense pain, paralysis, and prevents blood clotting. This is not the land for the weak of heart or the weak at all really. This is Uyaraut - ‘The Diamond in the Rough’.


Once Upon A D R E A M [Kershov]

Stormy Horizion, a fallen princess, scorned lover, and hopelessly lost. The young diorite and andesite carved marionette had holed away deep within what she had thought was Misty Mountain. The leaves had begun to change, the air had become cold and crisp, and frost painted the earth every morning. She wanted nothing to do with it. So the lithe ex queen holed away, and slept, slept, slept her heart out. She slept away the pain of losing Aindreas, slept away the heartache of letting down her pack, and the anxiety of seeing Aindreas around every darkened corner...

So now that spring had arrived? Stormy Horizion was lost Something had changed in blossom, the very layout of it, if that was even possible. Gone was every scrap of every trace of land that she had known. Had she walked away from blossom and forgotten? Had she left the lands completely and entered some new, unfamiliar place? Anxiety began to spin it’s web within her belly, intestines tightening as her lungs fill and empty. too fast. too fast. everything spins as Stormy looks around, nervous. Was she safe? what had happened? Hesitantly, slowly, the thunderstorm painted vixen places one creamy paw before the other, head down, tail tucked, ears flat to her skull, as if her very footsteps would crack the earth open and swallow her into it.

The delicate young femme moved painstakingly slowly through what she had thought, was Blossom Forest. Had she blacked out? It was true the girl had slept through most of the winter, not straying far from her den to search for prey. Had she panicked so badly that she had fled and couldnt remember? Her mind was plagued, traumatized, it ached with uncertainty and fear. The pretty young lass had no idea where she was going, or what direction she was even traveling in. That is until, a faintly familiar perfume wafted through the air, dancing on the tip of her charcoal nose. Ears pricked forward suddenly, as her eyes widened. Hackles raise as Stormy Horizion contorts her spine upward like a startled kitten. And perhaps, thats all she really was, a startled kitten. Too small and fearful to do any damage, too frozen to fight.

The thunderstorm dyed marionette whirls around, flanks heaving with panicked breaths as she smashes head first into a white titan, stumbling backward, the whites of her eyes gleam as she trips, her back half landing on the ground, pulling her downward. Stormy Horizion finds herself at the paws of a warrior, face marred, tail arched up high, muscles tight under thick arctic fur. Unable to slow her breathing in order to speak, she rushes through her words instead. “I-i think... i got lost i dont know.. is this even blossom anymore? Y-you’re Kershov but... this... it isnt abendrot”


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