Claimable, Plentiful, Volatile
The current runs with red. Here the tides pull strongly against the earth, leaving behind soft, fertile soil. The grass is lush, bending quite pliably beneath the press of a pawprint. At sight the shore appears to be welcoming rather than treacherous; but one ill-fated step along the banks will leave you a victim of the tide. The beauty of the floodplains is wholesome, with woodchucks scurrying among the purple weeds and dandelions.

As all good things do, beauty fades. The beauty is to be cherished, for it is beautiful – lest it not last forever.

This area becomes particularly treacherous during the late autumn, when the rain falls steadily and bursts along the banks. The grasses eventually die, in its place mud rises and swamplands would flourish.

The floodplains hold potential to be one of the lovelier places in Cyrileth. When spring comes once again, an odd couple may settle on the hills far from the water. The sun filters down from the sky, unhindered. Here and there ferns lay scattered through the valley, unyielding against the raining season. The winds roll affluently along the grasses; one may find an arc of color in the sky on an overcast day.

Navigate the pass at your own peril.

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