Aplos Riverside

Moladion’s powerful, winding river...
Aplos River is a broad, slow-moving river originating from somewhere beneath the mountains of Spirane and feeding Iromar’s moors in the south. The northern parts of the river are known for their strong currents, with the water becoming slow moving in the south. The riverbanks vary along its course, ranging from soft hummock grasses to small groups of pine, and sometimes nothing but pebbles and sand. Crossing can be difficult at times, but it can be swam or bridged by fallen trees or boulders alike.

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I must become a lion hearted girl
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When embarrassed, Maude tended to get particularly surly. She never handled mocking or laughter particularly well after her experiences as a pup. Also, being a bit defensive and suspicious of others, she fully expected the strange male to laugh when she crashed face first into the ice. She was pretty sure she’d gotten snow up her nose and she smelt the tangy scent of blood which meant that the stinging pain in her chin was likely a scrape or laceration. ”I’m fine!” Growling, more at herself than at him, she began to push herself up, making the mistake of shaking her head to try to rid it of the ache and sting before she’d fully gotten her footing.

Down she went again, this time avoiding slamming her face into the ice. She wasn’t far from the edge of the lake but her second fall had left her parallel with the shoreline. Lifting her head and scowling, she looked around, trying to discern if there would be an easier, if less direct path. ”It was easier going out.” Maude muttered under her breath as she tossed a few ideas around in her head. Neither were particularly dignified and one involved her trusting a perfect stranger enough to put his teeth on her. For all she knew he was one of those weird cannibal sorts that she’d heard whispers about.

”Let’s see if the third time’s the charm, eh?” A sardonic smirk curled on Maude’s lips as she finally looked over at the dark male. Closer up she could tell that he was definitely black but had lighter streaks in his fur. He wasn’t a particularly striking individual which put her at ease a little. Overly beautiful or unique wolves tended to make her feel uncomfortable or out of place. Sighing, she began to wriggle and claw her way towards the shore, neck stretched out in front of her. Looking like a fool was the lesser of two evils at the moment. Every time her chin scraped the ice, she winced and left a streak of red behind.


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