Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-10197675-20170202101117/@comment-10197675-20170228213502

Meanwhile atop of the throat of the world…

Dark menacing clouds twisted and twirled above the giant mountain’s peak as Motoa’s wrath sparked igniting a furious flame, thus creating outrage and chaos within Skyrim. The gusts upon the mountain top were traveling as fast as the speed of sound, consequently anything upon the ground was being ripped up from its place and thrown into a wild state. Snow blasted through the air, whirling and spiralling in all locations. Visibility was impossible and to even attempt to traverse upon the mountain top would be suicide. Yet, positioned directly in the middle of the mountain’s semi-flat peak stood a lone wolf. The animal was mysterious, appearing from what seemed nothing, its silhouette flashing within the flurries of snow that raged around the beast. The Wolf’s eyes pierced through the violent blizzard eradiating in an ocean blue glow. The wolf’s fur as black as the night sky, was seemingly untouched by the wind’s ire. Its paws lightly glossed over the snow making hardly any imprint as it effortlessly paced away from the peak of the throat of the world a heading down the mountain’s twisted and broken path, like a perfect drop of clean water falling into a raging current within a treacherous open sea.