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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but i need the taste of young blood on my teeth
IP: 173.94.169.63

demons in my dreams
watch me while i sleep

At the moment that her paws hit solid, albeit mucky, ground she pivoted to see if this odd, new companion would follow. He was already climbing onto the twisted and broken roots of the deadwood as she searched for him. How interesting. He could have chosen to remain on the other side, to go on his way or find another path around, but instead he made the decision to follow. And that was enough to keep her interest in him for the moment.

Ghostly white eyes watch him with intense curiosity as this brutish specimen makes his way across the river. He appeared at ease, his motions almost mechanical as he followed in her steps. But while she was able to cross without hindrance it seemed that he was to be given a challenge in his pursuit. The river swallowed another hunk of debris and barreled it down the current toward the deadwood bridge. Renja saw it coming only seconds before it hit, unable to warn the stranger.

She makes a partial step forward as she witnesses half of his body slip into the cold, angry current. But his brute strength is able to aid him in escaping certain death as he claws his way onto the muddy embankment to join her. A coy, half-smile touches her features as he finally looks to her, his muscles trembling from either cold or overexertion. It was all impressive nonetheless.

Yet, despite his onset of fatigue he is clearly still shaken by her words prior, asking of them once he has her attention. She turns to ascend the riverbank and continues moving north at a slow pace to head further inland among the trees. The rain continues to pour heavily, but at this point it’s nothing of a bother. ”I’ve lived countless times. Most I can’t even remember. Some I retain shards of in the back of my memory,” she admits, glancing at him momentarily before looking back to the grove that they meander through. ”Each time I’ve walked with death from one life and into the next. We’ve become quite acquainted after all these years,” she openly divulges to him. ”And yourself?” Her question is asked with genuine inquisitiveness as she looks back to him again, wondering what his thoughts are on the matter.
of death & destruction | lives for herself | nomadic



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