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Description
Breeding pic for Luz x Anarawd

Winter, Year 756 of the New Age
Ridgeback Range

Rp snippet:

Luz's belly churned as the great stag inched closer, his words doused in loathing. How could the Gods make a creature so cruel, and so conniving? The red doe knew there was no hope now. She held herself proudly where she stood on the frost-bitten ground, listening to the King's deep voice sing praise for a nation of criminals.

What good do these horrible things do? she wondered, Doesn't good always triumph over evil in the end? And even if these wretches do succeed in ruling, what then? What would they do? Kill everyone. . .torture them? To what end. . .and for what purpose?

Questions flooded Luz's head in way that made her dizzy trying to sort them out. Her gaze lowered to the withered grass underfoot. The fronds crept across the land in such a way that reminded the doe of the Blackwood fawnlings. Still, the terrible beast's words had hit a nerve. She wondered about the captured princess he spoke of, and in a way, his words echoed her thoughts. Why didn't Glenmore do anything? May Óganach spare us! We are no better than they, if we cannot summon the courage to help even our own kind in a time of crisis. . .

"I hope that my Gods and yours have mercy on you, King of Blackwood. I thank you though, for opening my eyes and revealing the ugliness in this world," Luz muttered, lowering her head in disappointment.

Description
Breeding pic for Luz x Anarawd

Winter, Year 756 of the New Age
Ridgeback Range

Rp snippet:

Luz's belly churned as the great stag inched closer, his words doused in loathing. How could the Gods make a creature so cruel, and so conniving? The red doe knew there was no hope now. She held herself proudly where she stood on the frost-bitten ground, listening to the King's deep voice sing praise for a nation of criminals.

What good do these horrible things do? she wondered, Doesn't good always triumph over evil in the end? And even if these wretches do succeed in ruling, what then? What would they do? Kill everyone. . .torture them? To what end. . .and for what purpose?

Questions flooded Luz's head in way that made her dizzy trying to sort them out. Her gaze lowered to the withered grass underfoot. The fronds crept across the land in such a way that reminded the doe of the Blackwood fawnlings. Still, the terrible beast's words had hit a nerve. She wondered about the captured princess he spoke of, and in a way, his words echoed her thoughts. Why didn't Glenmore do anything? May Óganach spare us! We are no better than they, if we cannot summon the courage to help even our own kind in a time of crisis. . .

"I hope that my Gods and yours have mercy on you, King of Blackwood. I thank you though, for opening my eyes and revealing the ugliness in this world," Luz muttered, lowering her head in disappointment.