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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So this was to be my life; to call this place home and follow Eric’s commands. Not that I had any problem with that – he seemed to know a thing or two about our kind, and perhaps he could teach me, but it was so strange to find someone that I could genuinely talk about my cravings with. It would definitely take some getting used to.
”Well that would make a nice break from being consistently persecuted, as I’d think most of us have been at one point, sir, and this place is so wonderful, so dark,” I mused, the grin fixed to my maw looking other-worldly and unnatural, ”and as for the imposters, you’ll be able to tell them apart the first time you see them hunt.”
Truth was I half missed the sunrises. I could remember them from lying on the outskirts of the den, before it became more painful to be out in the light. It was like someone leisurely started to paint the sky; they used the basic azure base but added the misty pinks and bright reds as the sun climbed the sky, but the beauty I had experienced each morning had been stolen and replaced with the dark splendour that was the night. The two times were incomparable, brilliant in their own ways. Regular canines were blessed to be able to experience both. I doubted, even if given the chance, I would become regular though. I had seen ‘normal’, and normal was fat, without cause and, for lack of a better word, boring. The excitement of my day-to-day life was good for me – without it I’d probably be one of those obese, lethargic creatures that I loved to hunt, and that would be far too shameful for even my wretched, broken pride to bear.
”Regulars? Sure thing, I probably won’t even see them. I’m quite a sound sleeper.”
The idea of sentries did seem quite preposterous, but I figured having someone around during the day to protect our passed-out carcasses from would-be vigilantes was probably the safe option. If I had been particularly approachable then I might have thought of befriending a burly canine and having him protect me during the day, but my lairs went undiscovered and I had never really gotten physically close to a wolf that I wasn’t planning to digest later. I could probably trace my anti-social behaviour back to my upbringings, where I was generally avoided by the other whelps and their parents. Hell, even my own mother stayed far away from me whenever she could, but I’m not going to go on one of those ‘my-mummy-didn’t-love-me’ tirades that just bore everyone. I hadn’t really desired my mother’s affections – she didn’t understand my need for wolf flesh. She tried on many occasions to wean me onto herbivore meat, which I tried to explain tasted exactly like spoiled milk, but she was persistent. I finally left home in my early teens, and I’d been travelling ever since. It was the same story a million other wolves told, with just the names and a few details changed. I’m not one of those foolish ‘my-life-was-so-awful-take-pity-on-me’ wolves. We deal with what we’re given. Moaning and groaning about your lifeless life isn’t going to change anything, so why bother? Instead of whining, you could be out there changing your life for the better. That would be my advice should anyone come complaining at me - get off your lazy arse and fix it yourself! Although I very much doubted anyone would come asking me of all people for advice. Friends gave advice. Nightmares haunted. It was just the natural order of things and I had only benefitted from it so far.
My auds twisted as a new femme strode in. She stood beside her alpha before addressing me, offering to show me around the place, but before I could answer a male came in, dragging in a dead femme who reeked of sex. He then motioned for me to tuck in.
”Yes, thank you, that would be lovely,” I grinned at Kaliskia, my maw dipped into a bow.
Now to answer the male. I couldn’t be rude, but the stench of sex on the femme was turning my stomach. That may have sounded strange, but I tried not to defile my victims’ bodies. I’m starving, not wicked. I do what I need to do to survive, and my meals were kind enough to donate their bodies to my cause. It’s only fair that I don’t start carving gang signs in their flank.
”Thanks but no thanks Scarface, it’s hard for me to eat something I didn’t help bring down. My pride has issues,” I lied smoothly, breathing through my mouth to avoid the smell.
As the two newcomers started to toy with each other, I shifted my gaze to Eric, with a ‘dear god let me leave’ look on my face. I really didn’t want to be standing next to them when things got... a little heavier.


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