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the Dreamer
Inactive Character (Matriarch)
Statistics
Species
Mixed Breed Wolf

Sex
Female (She/Her)

Age
4 years (5/1/2021)

Height
Very Tall

Weight
Average

Build
Athletic

Eyes
Sage green

Fur
Tones of blush, soft cream, and a dash of coffee

Scent
Lavender, honey, florals and citrus

Oddities
Wavy, tumbled fur - frequently dotted with flowers and foliage

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Sociable​​ ʚїɞ ​Gentle ʚїɞ Dreamer
#1
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[Image: Viv_FablePost.gif]

SKILL : LEADER ( 1 / 5 )
This post is more or less a one-shot and intended to convey that Fable will be leaving for a few days as of May 6. She is expected to return to the Meadows on May 13. You may still post here, interaction or simply expressing your character's reaction.

The worry settled in her chest, just above her sternum akin to a leaden weight.

Shiloh had told Fable of the strange dream and what he saw upon the Summit far to the north alongside Tiberii and multiple others. Their mother, of course, did not question its quality as a missive directly from whichever gods wrought this land. She had encouraged Shiloh to lean into it, to accept it, and the dreamer had seen the hesitation etched into his features - he had never clamored to accept the will of the gods as she and her mother had. Why would he, when he resolved to fix so many problems with a sword and sheer force of will?

Some things, the intangibles, could not be beaten into submission.

They were becoming tactile, however, as they wove themselves around her throat in the days following his revelations. The existence of this dream visitor and the blighted water to the east created a worrying vista for this world she was thrust into nearly two years prior and the stakes had never been higher. The Kingdom was rising from the ashes of its faltering demise and there were a sea of precious lives who called the Meadows, Avon, home.

She spoke at length with her mother as Avon's Divine before she knew she must act. The safety of them all could depend on their scrutiny and caution - to cast a willfully blind eye to brewing discourse would not be conducive to doing her duty as Matriarch.

This decision lay on her shoulders and no one else's. What she did - or did not - do next could set the tone for Avon's survival.

Once again she returned to the Heart of Avon, the cluster of rock and trees. Her paws lifted her onto its top and she hesitated, only for a moment, before she steeled herself and canted her head back to call a summons for those who were members or guests of Avon.

Fable permitted them time to congregate, meeting each gaze with a small nod of her head and a warm, if tense, smile.

Thank ye for takin' a moment o' your time for me today - I wish this was a matter o' good news, Fable began, her voice growing sober with each word. Some o' ye already know this, but th' world is in unrest. It is changin', an' not for th' better. There are new dangers we must be aware o', an' new rules we must embrace for all our sakes.

Her eyes traced to any of the younglings in attendance, emphasis etched into her gaze.

We believe th' water in Boann's Rill is not safe t'drink nor touch. For now, we must leave it be - it may come t' burn your skin, an' I cannot imagine what it might do if consumed. Th' Shallows t' th' west remain safe, Fable's gut rolled at the thought of flesh parched by the caustic water. The pain would be unimaginable, she theorized, and while she did not know if it would become infected as the water higher up in its branch had, she was taking no chances. There was no one among them whose health she was willing to sacrifice to find out. For now, I ask we all inform someone before we leave t'go anywhere - if something goes amiss an' someone does not return when they were supposed t', we must find them t'be sure they are safe or give them help if it is needed. All o' th' young ones must remain within th' Meadows unless accompanied by someone.

She hoped her children and Lugh would take this warning to heart. It would be enticing in the dog days of summer to lounge riverside or play in the water, but it was a risk if the water's nature changed.

In speakin' t' m'mother an' our Divine, we feel there may be answers at th' standing stones t' th' east, Fable went on. Some may know them as Druid's Rise, they are a few days' travel from here an' I have felt strange energies in their midst. M'brother tells me there are runes that could offer us clarity, but we must find them.

It was where her memory had returned to her - it could have been happenstance, certainly, but both she and Epona could not discount it. They needed to know for certain.

As your Matriarch, I will go t' seek audience an' see what I can find, she added. In m'stead, I leave ye in m'mother's capable hands until I return - I expect t'be home in a week's time.

She hoped - prayed - for no hurdles in her travel plan, but she felt her long limbs could ferry her to and from at a decent clip if she did not linger in the in-between areas longer than she must.

Fable bowed her head to the gathered wolves, holding the stance for a few moments before straightening once more.

I will leave tonight, she added in finality. I hope t'bring answers with me upon m'return.
[Image: Viv_FableFB.gif]
Howlentines 2025Hot Girl Summer 2024
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Foxy Woxy
Inactive Character
Statistics
Species
Red Wolf mix

Sex
Male (He/him)

Age
2

Height
Average

Weight
Light

Build
Slender

Eyes
Green

Fur
reds, cream, black

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Protective, charismatic, loyal
#2
 
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Foxglove was caught in a vortex of emotions. Maybe that little flame hadn't been extinguished, maybe it was slowly being fed, maybe Fox was making the absolute worst choices. Was he? He had no idea. But when he heard the sound of her call, he'd turned from his place on the borders and made his way into the very heart of Avon. The land had more gifts than what any could expect - what he'd assumed was just a little plot of red flowers had instead provided them with a wealth of resources.

None perhaps more precious than their Matriarch, who gave so freely and so much to others in turn.

Foxglove's brow furrowed at the tension in her face, those bright, expressive eyes of his showing his concern before he took his seat. It was not a long time before Fable had begun to explain the reason that she'd called them all together. The world itself was protesting, and Foxglove had to wonder what was disrupting it so. He had settled not too far from a cluster of the Goldencourte children, spotting Aisling when Fable laid out the edict that everyone was to inform each other of where they were going and for how long, and that the young of Avon stayed within the meadows. It was probably a death-sentence to those little children who were just getting their first tastes of freedom. For a moment, his green eyes strayed over the youngest of them all.

So much promise and potential - and yet the world itself was full of ire, and it was bleeding into their lands. Waters corrupted, unfit for anyone - they would have to make sure that they were careful. He'd just leaned down to tell the kids something - considering promising to make being on lock down more fun. But then Fable was going to leave them and go to Druid's Rise? His head shot up back to full height, a rare scowl on his face. She was going to leave now? He wanted to question her, protest profoundly, he wanted to tell her how foolish that was and how bad of an idea. He had to steel his face and try to swallow down the rise of emotions, but this wasn't his place to argue with her. Not in public in front of everyone like this.

The tone she used suggested that she was leaving no room for arguments, and Foxglove could understand that. However. He was still going to shove his nose right where it didn't belong again.

Howlentines 2025
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the devil knows my name
Kingdom of Avon (Protector of the Realm)
Statistics
Species
Wolf

Sex
Male (He/They/She)

Age
3 years (05.31.2022)

Height
Very Tall

Weight
Light

Build
Scrawny

Eyes
Violet

Fur
Silver with dustings of gold

Scent
Iron, bone, witch-hazel

Writer

Posts

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Anxious, Spiritual, Obsessive
#3
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Skill: Acolyte 1/5

She was merely a guest, and yet, the stay at Avon may yet be extended. Word of the waters, Sparrow 's terrible wounds, the hoarseness in her own mother's voice...

Perhaps she may never return to Elysium. As much as she wanted to curl beside Mama's side, Dimitri had to think about Fiadh and the children now. She'd hardly leave the borders, given the age of the little ones, but it would do good to have plans in place.

"If you wish it," she offered quietly, "I would like to perform a ritual before you go. You have been good to me and my family, Fable. Whatever I can do to ensure your journey goes safely..." She knew better to argue; Fable would not leave lightly, and the world in turmoil meant that there would be danger. "Allow me to at least beseech the spirits for your sake."
Rejoice despite the fact this world will hurt you
Rejoice despite the fact this world will kill you
Rejoice despite the fact this world will tear you to shreds
Rejoice because you’re trying your best
Seer
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