Bright Moon - a land sullied by mystery and the ravaging scars of a terrible fire. Abandoned as a pack land for years, the terra has been used as a gathering place for the brazen and bloodthirsty drawn there by the lingering pall of death. Yet from the ashes there comes an unordained phoenix, the rainbow hues of hope glinting in her mismatched globes. Through the obsidian drapes obscuring the scenery, she alone was able to catch the perfumed aroma of new life on the breeze and hear the sluggish streams flowing ever swifter into the morning.
Thus, with a purpose, she set out to map the incognita, discovering daily the extent of the reawakening and unearthing within herself a desire to return the landscape to its former glory. Now she stands tall as privileged Alpha of the lands, lording over the rock-strewn prairie and bountiful forests with a firm but gentle paw.
Having finally realized her deepest longing to be a queen, Satowra is focused solely on the revival and maintenance of the Bright Moon Pack. Her question to each prospective warrior that comes to the border is simple:
"Do you have what it takes?"
IP: 68.97.140.85
Posted on June 27, 2011 at 10:46:21 PM by Celtic
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After announcing her presence to the pack, the cement hued femme lowered herself onto her haunches ready to wait. Her eyes flickered around her to gaze at the wildflowers blossoming. She let her expressive pools glance across the invisible border and into the prospective packland. It seemed to her that the grass didn't grow as thick there as it did in the areas she had recently traveled through. She wasn't sure why this was. She was just glad that the grass was, indeed, growing. She knew that there were wolves who lived in arid deserts without grass or trees and with very little water. She wasn't sure how they maintained their sanity living in such a barren environment. Celtic was always inside her head. She was constantly thinking and wondering how things work and what made wolves do the things that they do. She believed that without a strong mind, one would not have a strong imagination. Those without imaginations rarely succeed. She had promised her grandmother that she would follow her dreams and make them come true. All she really wanted was to make a difference to the world and she knew that the most effective way to make a difference was to learn from her past and from the pasts of others. Being in a pack would also help her with this. By earning a name and position for herself, it would make it easier for her to help others. A sudden itch caused the grey doe to leap up upon all four paws. She turned her crania towards the affected area and attempted to bite the itch away but she couldn't reach. She hastily plotted her rear end to the earth again and lifted her back limbs. She scratched like a madwoman trying to rid herself of the irritating itch. Her nails only parted the outer layer of fur. This meant that she wouldn't be able to hit the itch head on but she figured that with enough pressure, she would be able to make it subside. There! There! A little more to the left! Ah, yes, there.. She lowered her leg and smiled once she got it. She figured that she still had time left before anyone of rank would greet her so she lowered her frame to the soil and rested her skull upon her paws for a short nap. The sound of padded paws hitting the green, carpeted floor made the lone damsel jerk awake. She immediately stood up, tail tucked but not yet lowered. She lifted her maw to read the air. Recognizing the musk as that of the Alpha Female of these lands, she tucked her tail and lowered her stance. She watched intently as the fae slowed her pace and drifted closer. Celt momentarily cringed until her brain registered the smile upon the ebony canine's lips. She relaxed a little, but maintained a submissive posture. She even lowered her carcass until her belly was a mere inch from the ground. She offered a fleeting smile before her ears perked forward as vocals erupted from the other female. Upon the word "submit", Celt instinctively, rolled onto her back, baring her pallid stomach and vulnerable throat, all the while keeping her tail tucked. Salutations, Satowra. I am Celtic. I have been travelling for weeks and my only wish is to seek refuge within your pack. She pondered as to whether or not she should say that she might be a great asset to the pack, but decided against it when she saw the other vixen growing more and more restless. Celt couldn't blame her. She probably had a long list of things to do and the day was too beautiful not to notice. Ooc: Thank you. I've missed roleplaying and I look forward to seeing how my characters unfold. I Just noticed how many typos I made in my last post. >_<; That's what I get for posting when tired. Celtic Female | 3yrs | Loner Photo by Hush. Steal it and die. |
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