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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My New Horizon
IP: 72.193.53.231




Here he was... finally at the top. Finally, after all this time, he got what he deserved. The forest surrounding him was calm, tranquil, deceptive. The lands did not always reflect the wolf who owned it, after all. Crowfeathers stalked through his home with his head held low, golden eyes narrowed as he investigated the place. Small rabbits peeked out from the underbrush and skittered away, unused to the presence of any wolf in these lands. A lot of the younger creatures here had never even seen a wolf before, all except old stags seeming to be oblivious to the force behind this male. Though on a deep, instinctual level, they were afraid of him. He reeked of carnivore, with a frightening, scarred face and long white teeth, perfect for ripping into one of their sorry hides.

Crowfeathers wasn't hungry, though. He was too busy re-establishing dead scent markers to care much for the thought of food. Munashii Gekko had changed a lot since it's abandonment, the constant tread of wolf paws causing some of the places to overgrow. The trees, free from scent marking and claw gouging, have sprung up further into the sky, ivy creeping up their trunks. Among these ivies was the foul-smelling poison variety, which crept along the forest floor and Crowfeathers was careful to step over. Without wolves to pick a carcass clean, old and sick animals were littered around the forest in various stages of decay. Their bones unchewed, ants and other insects crawling through their skulls. Their decaying smells were caught beneath the ever thickening canopy, making the forest muggy, smelly, and humid with the thickness of methane.

The forest had turned to more of a swamp in the few years the alpha had been gone. Even a thin fog settled around Crowfeather's feet, and the gentle river had widened slightly and now leads to spread out into a peat bog. Currently, Crowfeathers could still see the dried out snout of an elk who had fallen into the bog. It must have been quite deep to work as such an effective trap.

Finally, with a final spray, Crowfeathers cast his gaze around his domain. Half-scarred face was narrow, as were his eyes, determination deep set in the seemingly bottomless pupils. He turned on heel and ran to the middle of his territory, where he leaped upon a rotting log and threw his head back, letting a crisp howl slice the air.

Munashii Gekko, for the first time in almost five years, was open to the public once again.

Let the games begin.




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