Malignant Felicity is a paradisaical abode to the faithful remains of a mighty pack. Once ruled by the magnificent wolf Genocide, now the wolves of this pack follow the laws of the Alpha Lance, son of Sorna, Beta and Genocide's best friend...

The sounds of crashing water fill your auds as you enter this tropical paradise. The tall trunks tower above you. The treetop canopy's seem to shade the beautiful land from the sun's rays. What a paradise this place seems. This place dubbed Malignant Felicity. As you draw closer to the boarders a stench slowly devours the air around you. The stench of death.

"Beware..." scream the birds from above you. "She kills for games. She kills for fun." Something deep inside tells you to listen. Your body tells you not to go no further. Do you listen or do you dare move into the pack borders. This could be a life or death decision...

Follow the Queen, or become a corpse that lines her border. The choice lies with you.

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He waited patiently as she stood there staring at him. When he said he couldn't share her pain, he could swear he saw a slightly begrudging flash in her lampistra before she washed it away to simply stare at him blankly. He tensed as she shook, still not at all trustworthy of the damsel before him, no matter how weak and harmless she looked. It was the harmless looking ones that would get you, but then again, that didn't go with his approach at all. Devil looked the part in every shape and tone. He had scars that riddled his tangled midnight fur and an overall large frame that made him look monstrous. His jaws were built wide almost like he had bulldog blood in him which made his bites more deadly than ever. He was quick, he was trained from birth to do nothing, eat nothing, breath nothing but death. It was only more recently that he learned how to take a break from those things and just be a wolf.

Joining a pack? That had never been in his plans. The only reason he ever went into a pack land was to rape, pillage, and kill. He slaughtered whole packs before, it was nothing new. He thought himself crazy when he came to the borders of Malignant and turned over for the alpha. A female alpha, no less. Devil had never thought of a femme as nothing more than a slut, but Queens had changed that. She was a fiery vixen of hell which no wolf could tame. Pedulum had been a lucky stag to think she was all his, but he was a fool. She was never all his, he was just borrowing. Queens did what she wanted when she wanted to. She was her own boss. She could fuck you and forget about you but then that was the classy thing about her. She had standards to the mascus she screwed around with and they usually weren't the forgettable type.

Arcadian was her main dish right now but how long would that last? It had been too long since he'd been inside the delicious chocolate brown and midnight black huntress but he knew some day he would get to taste her again. There was no rush, he had forever.

His gold painted viewers watched the fatale before him shake and dismount the bird, another growl mounting in his chest as he again lunged out, trying to pluck the very feathers out of the bird's wings. Damn stupid creatures, he thought to himself. Pricking his lobes to the maiden's raspy laughter, Devil tilted his scalp and listened as she spoke of being thrown into a den and walking through fire when her siblings wouldn't. He still didn't get it. Why did she have to walk through fire? Was it some kind of test or just a stupid childhood dare? If so, she mgiht not have been as mentally strong as she thought. He certainly wouldn't crawl through fire unless it was an absolute necessity to living or getting something he wanted more than anything.

A training exercise or merely childhood stuff? A clear cut question.



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