Sleeping Dragon [BWP P3] i thought i lost you, my brother
Wild Fauna
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All Welcome 
BOOM! Phase 3 is now live.

For what seemed a millennia, the leviathan beneath Sleeping Dragon slept.
 
That was no more. The most recent quake to hit the wilds did so with a snarl and an utter love for destruction. The seismic shake was enough to knock any standing to their feet – including trees that had stood for six generations or more. Rocks tumbled from their lofty ledges, birds took flight in squalling alarm, and perhaps most importantly, a dark and malodorous plume of black tendrils began to smokily rise from the throat of Sleeping Dragon’s peak.
 
That plume, dark and plutonian, began to simmer and belch. Around the mouth of the jagged volcano’s apex, a spate of hazardous waves of ash and soot belched forth – spitting and spluttering in vehement cascades of black.
 
And then came a fierce and terrifying sight; a flash of hellish hot orange appeared at the rim, charging in and out of sight between lines of blackened smoke. Another rumble, and what burst from the dragon’s mouth could only be described as a solar flare of molten fury. In gurgling and raw quivers, lava seeped forth – embracing all beneath its malevolent embrace in a fiendish, devouring hiss.
 
In slow yet startling pulses, the mountain hiss and spat; meanwhile waves of baleful lava simmered forth, in pulsing red and dire black – until it seemed all of the nearby world was choked in Sleeping Dragon’s murky smoke. All of the wilds would likely hear the roaring of Sleeping Dragon's awakening' meanwhile, flares of wavering, furious red and molten gold simmered ominously along the skyline.
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She thought that getting away from the tempestuous coast would be to her benefit, but apparently, she was dead-ass wrong.

In fact, as the sea-wolf stared in slack-jawed disbelief at the blanket of glowing, steaming red-gold pulsing from the mountain, she took it as a sign. A sign that she shouldn't have left the coast, after all. Should never leave again, probably.

Gamo, Artemis muttered under her breath, beginning to take slow, measured steps backward. How fast would she have to go to get away from this hell? She was caught between terror and a foolhardy inkling of curiosity (how close could she get?).

The rational side of her won out eventually, and so she traveled on at a quick trot, keeping the fire-and-brimstone within the corner of a wary eye.