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

A Rainbow In The Dark -STARFALL-
IP: 70.182.97.238
Posted on December 11, 2013 at 00:33:57 AM by Orca

I Can Barely Look At You
But Every Single Time I Do,
I Know We'll Make It Anywhere
Away From Here




Winter left the crags cold and wet and entirely Nearly inhospitable. But, knowing now that the spark of creation has taken root in my womb for the very first time, it was most essential that I go into the highlands and gather much needed herbs and berries to store away for the coming months. I've never been a mother before, nor have I experienced the trials of pregnancy first hand. But I wanted to do everything in my power to ensure a safe term and maintain a healthy weight for both mine and my child's sake.

The Crags seemed foreboding and ominous this time of year. Winds swept across the moors in a harsh whine, buffeting the thicket velvet of my petticoats and turn my cheeks rosey, my raspberry nose chapped. Blue, the Stellar's Jay- my loyal Spirit Totem, could not bare the wretched cold and had sought refuge in the dip between my shoulder blades. He nestled deeply into the thick fur of my scruff there, clinging to the silken strands with his small feet and curling his head beneath one wing.

Despite the late winter season, a heavy layer of fog pooled in the lowland valleys between the hills where the wind could not carry, making it difficult for most wolves to see or navigate across the rugged snow-covered terrain. But I was not quite like other wolves of Moladian.

I was the First Born Daughter of the First Born Shamaness, Moonglow. My mother's mystic blood flowed as potently within my veins as it had her own, and from her I was Gifted also with the Shaman's Sight. Will-O-The-Wisps darted amongst the cragged rocks, peaking out at me as I scaled one ridge and descended it's other side. The small glowing blue and green orbs were as bright and vivid within the scope of my smoky amethyst gaze as the stars in the night sky. Every now and againI could hear the trill of their impish laughter, echoing in the breeze like tiny crystal bells.

Here and again an apparition would silently come ghosting by, silent as the Dead. Some took majestic guises like that of a great white elk or a fierce wolverine, whilst others came in more ghastly facades, such as a Bear, swollen and deformed in the face, or a Doe who sported missing legs and mangled eyes that seemed to have been scratched from their sockets. Still more took no shape at all, and simply coalesced as dark mists or shadows. I am no longer disturbed by these visions that only my eyes seem capable of seeing. Mother had taught me from a young age that as I grew, the ability would only become sharper and keener. It was best not to interact with spirits and specters though, unless they herald One within your own Dreams. she had called them... or Vision Quests. Often, they would come to me in my sleep and whisper of things to come or things that have passed, usually such escapades were broken, their meanings unclear and much like a riddle I would spend much time attempting to make the pieces fall together.

But I was not dreaming at this moment, So I simply let them pass, paying them little mind as I begin my search and check off the list of necessities in my mind. I carried with me a fur satchel, made from the pelt of a Grand River Otter. It was a rare prize, given to me by my mother, who had fought and slain the creature herself. Of course, she'd performed the Rites of the Shaman, thanking the Otter's spirit for giving up it's life to sustain her, and had kept the skin for purposes just such as this. The otter's fur was durable and waterproof, capable of withstanding the harsh climes of Moladian winters.

I spot a thatch of tall bushes, bright red berries visible even beneath the coating of hoarfrost. High bush cranberries promoted kidney health and kept yeast infections at bay- a common ailment for expecting mothers. I crane my neck and nudge at the slumbering Blue, the small avian stirred with a ruffle of plummage, blinking his beady eyes up at me and I smiled.

"Gather some of these berries for me, little friend" I implore him, taking on a sympathetic expression for I know him to be bitterly sore of mind in this weather. But he wakens easily enough, and flits to the nearest branch, taking great care with his beak to pluck as many berries as he could stand and deposit them into my satchel.

And on we went, gathering Chaga fungus from tree bark, to keep my immune system up, and Mushrooms and truffles for their varying properties and meaty proteins that aided in detoxification of the body and keeping it at a healthy weight.

While we worked away at our task, my mind was muddled with many thoughts... Thoughts about Hawthorn, comforted that the Gypsy King was back and among we Gypsies once again. Thoughts of Asa and his sudden appearance, that fact that every time I thought of him something in my stomach fluttered like butterfly wings. Why had he returned? What will he do now that he was here... Had he missed me while he was gone? Had he thought of me, the way I had oft-times thought of him?

At long last, just as the final glow of the Sun had drifted listless beneath the far off horizon, I find my task nearly finished. But the temperatures were dropping fast, and I was certain it would be sub-zero before midnight. I glanced around, looking for suitable shelter where I might keep myself and Blue warm through the witching hours.

The Life of a Nomad affords little luxuries such as Dens, ours were always makeshift, temporary... or most often then not for myself- none at all. Most times I wouldn't be bothered or stemmied by this thought. I was born of the Mountains, my coat would have kept me plenty warm in even the worst winter conditions. But Blue was far more fragile, and now I had something else to think about. The life inside me.

I let out a soft sigh, I had tallied too long. What to do now, I s'pose?

Great Spirit, show me a Sign, is there any safe haven or person to shelter me on this bitter night?
...You've Been the Only Thing That's Right In All I've Done...


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