Post by Riley on May 24, 2012 18:25:40 GMT -5
Year: 4
Age: Second
Season: Spring
Here in lies the account of my people of the far north.
It has long been known that my people are a people of faith and courage. We are survivors, warriors and speakers. For many a long year we have been quiet in our frozen home, quite content to ignore and be ignored by the rest of the world. Each year, we store out foods for each winter and reveal in each summer when life is at it's fullest. We hunt when we can and keep each other warm in the dark nights that come every year and last a season. Some will tell you that our ways are primitive and often question why we have not left these lands.
The truth is, this is our home and once, that home was threatened. It is certain that whomever reads this will have known of the great wars, if they have not become a bedtime story to scare young pups. But the matter is, even though the four clans had won those battles, our worlds were still shaken.
Seeing the light, the creatures of the once mighty clans of Umbra sought refuge in the clans, now five in number, but not all were so sure of their motives. Some clans turned away from the teachings of their Gods and enslaved the surviving members of the darkness, others welcomed them into their homes, but not all turned a blind eye to their deeds.
Our mighty clan of Ros was one of the ones that welcomed in these fallen creatures and tolerated them as they began to learn our ways. There were not many, for not many survived. we fed them and taught them the ways of Mare, our kind Goddess. All seemed well but a small band on loners, decedents of the creatures of darkness, attacked out home. They did not seem to get too far as the elements soon took care of them, but it brought up something interesting. It had been noted that not all the members of the clan were so eager to go end the existence of these intruders, specifically the ones we had taken in.
That had only been this past winter and some of the wolves we have taken in have left. While it is no longer my duty, I fear for the safety of my . Such duties have long since fallen into the claws of my war hardened son, Aragorn, last living member of my bloodline. The house of Camma grows small and weaker, should my son not take a mate, I fear for what shall happen to my people, though it is far beyond my own claw. My time on this earth is limited, for those of my species are not blessed with long life. Whatever my fate should be, it is held only by the Gods now.
-- Camma
(Tama, 8 years old)
Age: Second
Season: Spring
Here in lies the account of my people of the far north.
It has long been known that my people are a people of faith and courage. We are survivors, warriors and speakers. For many a long year we have been quiet in our frozen home, quite content to ignore and be ignored by the rest of the world. Each year, we store out foods for each winter and reveal in each summer when life is at it's fullest. We hunt when we can and keep each other warm in the dark nights that come every year and last a season. Some will tell you that our ways are primitive and often question why we have not left these lands.
The truth is, this is our home and once, that home was threatened. It is certain that whomever reads this will have known of the great wars, if they have not become a bedtime story to scare young pups. But the matter is, even though the four clans had won those battles, our worlds were still shaken.
Seeing the light, the creatures of the once mighty clans of Umbra sought refuge in the clans, now five in number, but not all were so sure of their motives. Some clans turned away from the teachings of their Gods and enslaved the surviving members of the darkness, others welcomed them into their homes, but not all turned a blind eye to their deeds.
Our mighty clan of Ros was one of the ones that welcomed in these fallen creatures and tolerated them as they began to learn our ways. There were not many, for not many survived. we fed them and taught them the ways of Mare, our kind Goddess. All seemed well but a small band on loners, decedents of the creatures of darkness, attacked out home. They did not seem to get too far as the elements soon took care of them, but it brought up something interesting. It had been noted that not all the members of the clan were so eager to go end the existence of these intruders, specifically the ones we had taken in.
That had only been this past winter and some of the wolves we have taken in have left. While it is no longer my duty, I fear for the safety of my . Such duties have long since fallen into the claws of my war hardened son, Aragorn, last living member of my bloodline. The house of Camma grows small and weaker, should my son not take a mate, I fear for what shall happen to my people, though it is far beyond my own claw. My time on this earth is limited, for those of my species are not blessed with long life. Whatever my fate should be, it is held only by the Gods now.
-- Camma
(Tama, 8 years old)