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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Riku evenly held the female's gaze with one of his own noting, without much surprise, that only one socket was occupied. Neither her growls nor her agressive posture did anything to move the brute. He could sense from her a feeling of disapproval. She thought he was low, worthless, a simple mangy mutt. She, who had not even won the right to these lands, who instead had simply slithered in and called herself alpha, had the audacity to judge him so harshly. Such displays of over-confidence could not hope to sit well with such a bitter brute.

Without breaking contact with the female's single bright eye, Riku began to pace forward, moving slowly, hackles raising as he did so. He came to a stop with his marred muzzle only inches from her own. His chops pulled back to match her grimace of disgust, revealing equally tapered fangs. He shifted his hindquarters to better hide his fresh wound from view. Drawing himself up to his full height he stood slightly taller than his adversary. Scarred though he was, the brute lacked nothing in size.

Riku, of course, had no intention of fighting this wolf for her command over the region and the wolves who called the place home. He was in no condition for such a fray. What he demanded was respect. He would not be looked upon as weak, as simple, or as fearful. He was a proud beast, and had been through more than this stranger could hope to know. His scars testified to that. He would demand to be treated as his pride told him he deserved to be. She obviously wanted him to submit to her authority, to grovel before her. He could see it in the dangerous glint in her eye. But he stoutly refused. Not today.

His jagged and broken teeth parted as the brute finally spoke, his lyrics low and grating;

"Riku." he coughed. "Don't forget that. You would judge me from your seat of false power? Then judge." He took a step back in bitter invitation, keeping his head held high and his dark gaze fixed resolutely on the fae.

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