Glorall

Disaster has struck!
Flooding from the north has taken its toll on Glorall. The large tides combined with the increase in water draining from the Ruieze River has flooded the lower regions of the pack. The sandy soil, compounded with so much water, has toppled a lot of trees. Traveling is difficult even when the water is shallower, with the sandy soil below being difficult to find traction on. The daily tides seem to keep the level of flooding fairly consistent, too.

During the low tide, wolves may be able to move around the higher dunes (with some difficulty) but during high tide, the pack is almost impossible to safely navigate. Swimming is possible, but the risk of currants and surges from either the ocean or the river are very real. The island off of the coast of Glorall is untouched by either issue, although it is incredibly difficult to find your way there without being an adept swimmer with plenty of good luck!

Note: Glorall will reopen once 30 posts have been completed (or at Staff discretion). During this time, new threads will receive a 'Surprise','Disaster', and prizes. Glorall is currently not open for challenges.


THE HERE AND NOWALPHA OF GLORALL
Elohim

Return to Lunar Children
smell the dead roses
IP: 67.143.208.212


He could tell it wasn't going to be as easy as it was to slip away in Taviora now that his own mother had decided to escort them to the beachside pack. He gave a heavy sigh as he trotted beside her, still eager to see another pack and the wolves that it would offer. Hopefully there would be some youngsters this time. He didn't see many his own age at Taviora. He glanced down as the sand squished between his toes, scrunching up his nose as he paused. "Ew, gross. Why does this stuff feel wet?" He didn't understand it at all. He held up his paw and tried to shake it off but it chose to stick to his toes. He wiggled them, watching a few grains fall off. Rolling his eyes, he pounced ahead, hoping that if he had less contact with the sand, then less would stick to him.

That was when he felt eyes on them. Stopping, his head snapped around, violet eyes falling on the young female. She had raced ahead of the group by this point and was standing proudly in their way, though she had yet to utter a word which already struck Apollyon as odd. As he trotted closer, she bowed and moved her mouth as if to bark yet nothing came out. Scowling, he moved closer. "Who are you and why aren't you singing my praises? I'm a prince, you know." He straightened up, his tail wagging as he put on his most charming smirk.

Apollyon
male.0 years old.38in, 172#.born to Avery X Arkane.brother to Ontari&Raz.not bound.not mated.father to none.Prince of Iromar




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