During the day, sentries guard the sleeping. When the sky is dark and the moon dances with the stars, this is when the real fun begins. Munashii Gekko's forest is the only haunt where you can find your local misfits all in one place. A land of the forbidden and forgotten, a place that is riddled with dangers of a whole different kind. The wolves here have long misplaced their rightful minds, and now live like creatures damned to prowl and lurk through the night. It's easy to lose yourself here, sanity was sure to fade away and wither; there was never anything normal about this nefarious nest. The silent threats that whispered in the breeze were enough to deter even the largest of demons around. It was not strength nor wit that ensured your survival here with Eric, and challengers would be torn down with a morose lethality - there was nothing left in his cold blue eyes that promised mercy to anyone who dared to overstep their worth. So, would you give up the sun for the moon and stars? Do you have enough vigor to become a well regarded sentry? - Put on a game face to step up and pass the sepia king's test or turn and leave before he catches your scent. You never know who wants to snack on your delicious blood in this forest.

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The scents of Munashii Gekko were quiet to say the least. The border wasn’t as prominent as other packs she had skirted around on her journey here. But it was subtle; you didn’t know you were there until you were, well, there. It wasn’t a particularly well known pack; Atra speculated that a new member hadn’t been accepted for some time. Scents of lone wolves spotted the borderlines sporadically, but they had left, unanswered. It was then that the black fea began to wonder why she had been answered by Hope and her brother the first time she had visited these lands. They could have just as easily ignored her to send the message that she was not wanted, and being the timid wolf she was, she would have left without argue. She found herself wondering if the white wolf Waptumewi had anything to do with it. The quietness of these lands was enchanting to her, and she found herself lulling to its melody. It was surprisingly easy to loose yourself in thought here, slowly relaxing one’s senses as you are drawn deeper and deeper inward. In that moment, Atra was overcome with a sudden and strong sense of happiness, one of the rare times in her life that she had felt at total peace with herself.

So you can imagine, her being inwardly drawn and self searching and all, that she was caught a bit off guard as Silence came suddenly through the bushes, stark red blood marring the white of this muzzle. She blinked in surprise; once, twice, then gaze turned away from his defensive position. He had recently made a kill, and had dragged it back with him. He was making it clear that it was not her. She told him through body language that she was not interested in stealing his kill from him; she was submissive and meant him no harm. He was the boss; one could interpret it that way. The “forgotten language” of wolves was not lost to her. She did not waste her breath or time when she could say the same thing with the slightest of movements. To speak without making a sound was the wolf’s legacy, and she carried it on proudly. So many wolves today did not seem to understand that you did not have to make a bunch of noise to be heard or understood. In Atra’s eyes they were fools who were not fir to wear the title of “wolf.”

The small black wolfess did not turn her gaze to him again until her spoke. His words were short and a bit gruff, but Atra did not blame him. She had interrupted his silence, she could understand if he was a little piffed about it. She withheld speaking until she was sure that he was done. After letting a moment of quiet drag on between them she parted her lips to speak.

”Atra. My name is Atra. I don’t believe I caught yours at out last encounter.”

She spoke quietly and calmly, though a bit of that nervousness that never seemed to leave her had returned and her heart fluttered annoyingly in her chest. Silence was not doubt a strong wolf, and Atra mind began to wonder if he knew about the powers that Hope seemed to possess. He must know something; after all they were brother and sister. It struck her then that he might even possess some kind of power himself. This did nothing to help her heart or her nervousness, as it only increased her sense of “I could be killed at any moment.” She shifted into a low crouch, so that if need be she could take off at any aggressive sign from him. She had no intention of dying here, she only wished to become informed on certain aspect of Blossom Forest, aspects that seemed to be a big part of mysterious Waptumewi’s past, as well as present. His nervous nature had to stem from something, and he had been particularly nervous around here.

”I have some questions for Hope… About a white wolf named Waptumewi. Perhaps you might know of him as well… I want to know why he was so afraid to come here, why he said I shouldn’t mention his name.”

She glanced away from him after she was done speaking, throughout it her voice had been a bit stronger then usual, as if to say “I won’t take a simple ‘go away.’” But she was not rude, and would do her best not to be. It was clear that she was nervous, and that she wasn’t used to being an assertive wolf, if you could call what she had just done assertive, but at the same time she was determined to understand why Waptumewi was the way he was. She would not leave until he at least let her talk to Hope.


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