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: 156.34.159.140
Posted on August 31, 2011 at 12:46:15 PM by tamlin.
Life was looking up for the male. He had been wary of his position at first, nervous about it and what he was supposed to do, but he was gradually relaxing into himself. His old confidence surrounded him like an aura once more. He wasn't an especially dominant creature by nature, but merely a position holder. He would decide where he wanted to be, who he wanted to respect, and stay in that position, hold onto his rank and not let anyone else try to take it from him or otherwise usurp him. Tamlin never would have tried for alpha, it went against his primary nature and violated the innermost core of his being. He was a knight, not just any knight however. Satowra's knight. He hadn't loved her, not in a romantic sense, anyway. He knew Rio had felt some affection for her, affection that passed friendship, he knew Omni Cader loved her from the depths of his soul, yet he himself was not in love with her. What he felt towards his lady was a dutiful loyalty, comradeship, and steadfast liking toward her as a personality and respect for the same thing. He respected her, liked her, was there for her, but he did not love her. Despite the fact that she had left her pack, Tamlin still cherished her memory. One room in the catacomb of his brain, near the back, was reserved for her remembrance. Although his outward signs of mourning had passed with a few hours of wandering among the forest and a few sessions of staring off into space for minutes at a time, that area would always be swathed in the black hues of mourning.
Despite the fact that it was afternoon and the sun was beginning to shine brighter and hotter than it would in any other part of the day, he trotted about his lands, half border patrolling and half simply exploring the wide domain. Tamlin's off-white fur was tousled by a cooling breeze. He was glad for the intermittent gusts of wind, and sensed that it would be well-nigh impossible to be out and about without their help. The lithe boy's tongue hung out of his open mouth and his banner swayed gently from side to side in a slight wag as he lowered his nose to the ground (shutting his maw as he did so) and inhaled the odour of a rabbit. To a wolf such as himself, smelling the scent of prey was a clear invitation to begin the hunt immediately, so begin it he did, gracefully conforming his slender body into hunting stance and inching himself forward toward the pinpointed perfume. His paws where placed carefully, but once during his silent nearing of the creature he placed his paw on a twig which gave a faint snap. Luckily for him, the herbivore sneezed at the same moment as he made his error, and hence did not notice the slight noise. He continued forward, being twice as careful as before.
Finally, after what seemed like forever but was actually only a minute or less, his finely-tuned senses could pick out the quick huffs of it's breathing. He could see it's tiny chest rise and fall with it's last inhalations. Tamlin's navy colored eyes could also see exactly where he would strike and discern where he would place his sharp fangs to best slay his prey. The stalking had been the most exciting part of the kill. The actual attack was almost nothing. Their was a pounce, a landing and a shriek before the sounds of rustling dictated that Tamlin was emerging victorious. His prey was grasped carefully in his maw, the odd angle of it's neck showing that it's neck had been broken. The pale alpha's stomach rumbled hungrily, so instead of waiting until later, he laid the limp creature on the ground and dug in to the still-warm flesh. He ate about half of the dead thing before deciding that he had eaten enough for the moment. Picking up his now-ravaged prey, the bloody-muzzled male walked a few paces, scraped the ground with his front paws, digging until a shallow impression had been formed. He dropped the carcass into the hole, scraped some earth over it, and loped to a gurgling stream he knew was nearby to clean the blood off his maw before it caked.
Arriving at the place, he waded into the water. It was a fast-flowing, clear, cold stream, quite deep for shallow water, as it reached to his chest. His fur seemed ghostly as it was tugged by the current, he regarded it curiously for a moment before holding his breath and dipping his snout under. Tendrils of crimson water came away from his muzzle. They floated downstream for a bit before vanishing like ruby-red wraiths. When his oxygen supply needed to be replenished, Tamlin raised his noble head, sending drips of water cascading down to contact the surface of the brook and join the race of water as it headed toward it's elusive destination. He could have spent minutes gazing at the flow of water, could have meditated on it and found great enjoyment in watching it pass, but a gust of cooling breeze brought the faint smell of wolf, a female, to his awaiting nostrils. Coming out of the water, the young alpha did not pause to shake, instead allowing his silky fur to drip freely. Because of this, small streams of water ran down his body, merging together to form several run-off points, most of which where on the long hair of his belly. He had just set out when a howl chanced upon his auditives. It was the from the same direction as the scent, so he figured that it had been the fea wolf who had spoken. He was not an alpha against howling. Impatient howls irked him, yes, but if a wolf wanted to voice a song to let the world know of their approach, he saw no problem with it.
He ran swiftly and easily through his territory, light, streamlined body oddly quiet as he raced through the lands. When in Bright Moon, it was hard to believe that this had, not long ago, been a wasteland, a ashen abyss not fit for wolf and uninhibited even by birds. Although the trunks of towering blackened trees still remained in some parts, lording over the territory like silent sentinels, the charcoaled logs used to lay across the ground had mostly dissipated. The ash was still here, at least, some of it was. A lot of the stuff had blown away in the last fall windstorm, so the grey flakes no longer completely covered the land. It lurked in corners, piled under fallen vegetation and existed in other places akin to that, but was mostly gone. The varg's pads had touched down on grass, moss and dirt as he galloped loosely through the forest, his passage making faint but distinct noise, as he didn't attempt to be stealthy. Tamlin slowed himself to a more civilized pace as he approached within a 400 feet of the she-wolf's location. In the thickening foliage, it was difficult for his mesmerizingly hued opticals to clearly discern the ess, but as he moved closer, his stilts moving him at a stately wolf jog, he was finally able to see her well. From what he could see, she was a fairly average looking lass. Her silhouette was well structured and her conformation seemed strong. Her fur was a soft hue, the usual wolf grey.
His tail was arced over his spine in dominance, his head was held high in the usual alpha's way as he closed the distance between the two. As he always had as beta and now did as alpha, he kept his facial completely devoid of emotion as he stalked forward, the air of confidence and dominance around him enough to make any wolf take notice. Although he was still wet and therefore could appear amusing, he did not seem to be at all comical, merely a quiet, serious figure. He seemed to be professional and aloof, yet if you looked closely, and were skilled at discernment, you could see certain things about the set of his expression and the way he held himself that made him seem trustworthy and dependable rather than frightening. He stopped a good ten feet from the submissive postured maiden, his underlying gentleman instincts keeping him from wanting to intrude in he personal bubble. If she had been a tad more dominant he probably would have closed in, simply to assert himself as wolves do, but since she was already downcast, he felt no need to. Feeling the need to speak first, Tamlin opened his maw and let his vocals spill out into the warm afternoon air, his voice was a lovely one, gentle yet strong with a musically lilting cadence as it floats to the others auds.
"Hey." A strange greeting for a warrior who appears so noble as he, yet a legitimate one nevertheless. "I am Tamlin, alpha here. Submit to join Bright Moon."
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