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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I'm not crazy just mildly insane
IP: 70.242.161.173

Johnny’s paw pads were the only sound that he could hear, reverberating through the clearing he was walking in. He kept glancing around nervously, for even thought that was the only sound he heard, he felt like somebody was watching him, stalking his every move.
Of course, that could just be him and his crazy ways.
He was here for… well, he didn’t really know. He supposed it was to join a pack. The thick scent of wolves that had passed before, a large group of them, signaled to him that he was most likely in the right place. The only fresh scent he could detect was that of blood, and he just had to stop and wonder what is was from. A warrior, returning from battle with fresh wounds? Meat that had been dragged across the borders, as a meal for the pack? Or the fresh carcass of one that dared to not submit? Shaking his head to dispel those thoughts, he turned to the borders. The scent was thicker here, as if more wolven members had passed here, and he figured he was somewhere near it. Cocking his head back, he let loose a rumble, telling the members of the pack he was here, ready to serve, ready to fight, ready to kill. After he finished his little melody, he put his head back in its proper place, surveying the area. It seemed like a home for the dark and sanity-deprived, if the landscape was anything to by.
His kind of place.
It was dark, the moonlight playing tricks and slights of hand with the shadows. Was that a wolf, or just a leaf? He was never really sure, and, as he wasn’t in the mood for mind games, he just let it go.
This was when he heard the noise. It was a faintest rustle, the movement of silky pads against the underbrush and such. Wary, he dipped down in a submissive bow, training his eyes to where the sound had come from; making sure it was a friend, not a foe that was rushing through the forest he wished to call home.


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