Black Morass black morass

open to imperium members / prospective members!

kóvictus moves through the thick fog of the morass, a living shadow as he moves. the air hangs heavy with dampness and the tang of decaying vegetation, but he finds comfort in it—it smells of his domain, of imperium.

the towering trees loom overhead, their gnarled branches casting twisted silhouettes against the pale, diffused light filtering through the mist. the sound of distant water dripping into stagnant pools fills the silence, broken only by the steady thud of his paws against the sodden earth.

as he patrols, his nose works constantly, catching scents that linger in the damp air. some familiar—his pack, his reverend mother, the occasional prey—but others are faint, foreign.

kóvictus pauses at the edge of a small clearing.