Susil Crags

Disaster has struck!
The Crags are a series of rocky formations with small caves and crevices throughout. Many of the lower-lying areas of the Crags have been flooded, however, with water pouring in from the Northern stretches of Moladion. Some paths have been completely submerged, and some are nothing more than a few rocky peaks sticking out of the water. The water is fairly slow moving but begins to pick speed up towards the Grotto, becoming a series of intense rapids and waterfalls as it nears the Grotto's entrance.

The area itself is still traversible. However, it can be risky. Large amounts of debris can enter the waterway, creating bridges at times but also creating dams that break and cause ocassional flash-flooding. Be careful, travelers! One wrong step and you could end up finding out where the water goes.

Note: Susil Crags will return to normal once 25 posts have been completed (or at Staff discretion). During this time, new threads will receive a 'Surprise','Disaster', and prizes.

Return to Lunar Children

come rain on my parade
IP: 58.172.43.36

Beltane could not deny it: she had a fierce need to find herself closer to him, and she did not give much hesitation in taking that liberty. She tested the waters with a shuffle closer and when he did not revoke his company or hiss in response, she moved heartily across until she felt his body beside hers. While she was warm and practically quivering with energy, his presence was colder, quieter, less a heartbeat and more a whisper. It had its allure, though Beltane was likely one of few who could feel that allure. Death was the fear of many, after all, but Beltane had not learned that fear. She had seen Thoth's, after all, and yet she knew he had only left one plane to join another. Others did not see it. Others did not hear it like she.

"Mmmm, Beltane, the Listener, Silvertongue, Gravekeeper. Many like you, but nothing too." She grinned, as if they were shaking paws, and she savored his name in the back of her mind. Whispers lingered behind them and she wondered if the utterance of his very name had stirred something up, but she dare not listen now. "I will listen, I will speak, and I will keep your grave. What do you think, ghost? Will you haunt me?" She had revelled in his laughter, the way air rattled through him like a hollow tree. "Give me part of your life. There's still some left, yes." She spoke frankly, nodded to affirm that she truly meant it, and waited with a patient-as-ever face to receive his answer. After all, it was winter and he was dying. Beltane was warm, welcoming, and was alive. They were opposites, completely and wholly, and she could not help but dream of what would be created in the middle of them. Onias and she had produced something powerful but now, she wondered, if she could make something else. What is anybody, after all?

He did not seem to reject the idea entirely and so, she exhaled deeply and placed her head atop his shoulder. She breathed in, felt his fur against her face and his scent deep within her. And then he moved, though she wondered on whose command - hers or his? But she did not deny it. She moved with him, two pale shadows, a ghost and a woman desperate to love one.

beltane
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