Ruieze Fields

Open fields and soft grass...
Ruieze stretches far in the midlands of Moladion, laced with streams that feed into Diveen and out of Asteraia at times. The fields are vast, filled with wildflowers and tall, soft grass; trees are sparse, as are rocks, but one can find small shrubs to hide amongst, and the grass itself. To the south of the fields, a Ruieze River widens, and the ground becomes sandy. There is a small, grassy island that can be reached from the banks, with water-birds often congregating on the island rather than the riverbanks.

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Everything had come to a head in the early onset of winter. My father had stolen into the moors with the intention to try and escape with me yet I hadn’t wanted to go. There was a familiar comfort in Iromar now - both my prison and my freedom. The attention of the Darkbringer settled on me frequently and it would be a lie to say that I was sad for it. I flourished beneath his paws with my charges free from his grasp. It is a testament to my twisted thinking in that I didn’t mind his attention but hated it upon them. Protected them, fought to survive and feed them. Finally in the throes of late summer I had managed to capture that elusive baby alligator. The oily look in his eyes had been priceless, a gleam of pride and cunning that I aimed to imitate with my own looks when on my own, but found myself stoic in the company of others. A porcupine, full of bristles and ready to defend myself from silent judgement.

I remember the way that Blackthorne attacked my father in the blackness of night, with a vicious fury, right after I had stalwartly told Halcyon NO. No, I would not go with him. I had felt the undefinable guilt and anger at him and myself. Myself for wanting to stay and him for asking me to leave. For forcing the issue after I told Zelda. I had bared my FANGS at him. Then the battle ensued and I had stood back in alarm, tail stiff and straight, fear that if I intervened I would be kicked out or worse. Fear that if I didn’t I would watch my dad die.

Finally he relented and left and I was forced to watch him go, bloody, defeated while the bleeding Darkbringer had purred his pride in me. It is only when he began to hint that perhaps I should go take back my sister, to show my father, that I finally snapped. I turned upon him then, attacking with vigor. I was a stout male, broad shoulders and thick jowls like my grandsire, but I was not accustomed to the slithery way the other male moved. Fast, a viper, striking and retreating, taunting and snide.

Eventually I tucked tail and ran. Ran so fast my lungs burned as if on fire. It was the early set of spring, weeks after my father’s assault and failure. My heart beat erratically as I looked through the fields, heading towards Asteraia before sharply angling west towards Spirane. Then I circled back south. My internal compass was broken. I didn’t have anywhere to go. I couldn’t go home after what I had done. I had hurt them, my parents, my siblings.

What did one do when they had burned all their bridges? I come to an abrupt stop in the middle of the fields and set my shaggy self down with a thump, ears back, mouth agape as I pant.


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