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?"

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lies|truth|hope|despair
IP: 156.34.154.105
Posted on January 3, 2012 at 09:46:03 PM by Tamlin


The word that summed up the storm in Tamlin's mind best was betrayal. He was feeling more than a little depressed after meeting Satowra, the one wolf he acknowledged as alpha, and having her leave as soon as he had come to blissful terms with the idea that the mantle of leadership no longer was his to shoulder. Although Tamlin found himself equal to the burden of being a regal, he found it taxing to the extreme. His social skills, which had been fairly undeveloped before his arrival at Bright Moon, were evolving swiftly, changing him from a quiet, brooding wallflower to one that could possibly be called a smooth talker. In fact, in the last few months, they had developed to such an extent that he could now be considered a gentleman well versed in the subtle ways of politics. No matter how good he was at ruling on a normal, day to day basis, however, Satowra's return had caused him to make one big mistake that would likely cost him a bit of trust on his two closest supporter's parts. When his jet queen had returned, Tamlin had made the folly of taking her side immediately. He had welcomed her with open arms, which offended Raylen at the very least, and likely Rio too. If she had returned for good, that move would not have been a bad one, but since she scurried off, the decision had come back to chomp in the rear end.

As Tamlin loped along the borders, renewing his faded scent markings, he had a vague idea that he wasn't the most popular wolf in the pack at the moment. The whole incident with Satowra, Rio and Raylen had been just the tip of the dung heap. His wounds from the match against the challenger wolf had proved far worse than he had initially thought. Because of that, he had been forced to lay low for about two weeks, resting and waiting for them to heal. In that time, he had given the duty of accepting wolves fully over to his warriors. Much to his relief, they stepped up to the plate, thus granting him a bit of mental security needed for him to relax and focus on mending his flesh. Because of that much needed break, the ivory stallion was feeling much better physically, though mentally he felt a little strained. Perhaps paranoia and a returned sense of unworthiness that seeing his lady had brought upon him was affecting his view of what the pack thought of him, but, for whatever reason, he felt more than a little like he had failed in his duty as steward of Bright Moon. For that reason, and also the urgent need to stretch his legs, the boy was going about his duties with a fervor fuelled by tinges of self-disgust. He runs for the most part, the powerful striking out of his slender limbs only interrupted by his frequent halts to renew the odor of his kingship.

On one such stop, the bronco lifted his nobly paned head and, quite by chance, caught the scent of a newcomer and a wolf who, although he had yet to meet, held the distinct esthesis of Bright Moon's perfume covering her. His nares would not have managed to snare their colognes had an errant breeze not moved them in his direction, since they were downwind from him. In response to noticing the duo's presence, the varg forsook his current job and picked up a brisk, smooth jog through the tangled foliage, following a faint trail that he knew, by experience, led to somewhere quite close to where the two's fragrance was emanating from. His ivory frame was as the form of a wraith as he ghosted through the forest. He, who, like Raylen and Rio, had been in Bright Moon since it's beginnings, knew the forest as he knew the back of his paw. He moved swiftly, his lean pistons bringing him along without err. After a little less than a minute of loping, he reached the end of the wolf-trail and was forced to slink through the gnarled trees. He moved soundlessly, although his white pelt was visible through the trees and his aroma, since he did not attempt to hide it, was easily detectable due to his upwind location.

Even though Tamlin currently had his doubts about his worthiness, all of those were forgotten, stashed away as he came toward the other wolves. His stance was that of an alpha, crown raised proudly, snowy ears flicking alertly forward, carriage dignified. He had an air about him, one which made him seem understanding and gentle - lordly rather than arrogant. He surveyed the she-wolves through deep, navy blue eyes. The one who was obviously a warrior of his pack was the same hue as he. If her eyes had been azure, and if she had been a little taller (or he a little shorter) they could have been twins. They mare in front of her, who seems a newcomer, has the pelt of the usual grey wolf. She seems withdrawn and slightly perturbed, but Tamlin does not judge her, he merely observes, his facial expression neutral, but not stern. The pallid bruja had already spoken, so the sir does need to ask for the newcomers name or do anything rather than glance at her for a moment and shoot her a quick, slight smile. As soon as that expression was completed, he turned his cerulean gaze toward Misty and allowed his lilting cadences to grace the cool forest air. “You have saved me the task of asking your name, Misty. I would like to thank you for patrolling the border in my absence, as well as formally name you Iota as a way of recognizing your efforts.” His ears twitch and his mask of nonchalance tugs into a ghost of a smile.

ooc: TWYMNCTUPODS (<--Tamlin's...nickname... ^.^) is officially back in action! Until Satowra comes back officially, that is. In which case he'll just be the over-dominant, bossy beta with low self-esteem and a strange sense of duty... -sighs-... But now I'm rambling. Anyways, he's back and will be posting<3


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