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: 50.53.175.236
Posted on January 22, 2012 at 04:12:04 AM by raylen
because tonight will be the night that i will fall for you, over again I miss normality. I miss when I had no burdens, when I was carefree and youthful not just physically. I'm not old, by any means, but my scars seem to make me so. Sometimes I can fool myself into believing that I'm fine, that I'm just like I was before Satowra, before Bright Moon and Blossom Forest and certainly before Soul. I can pretend I'm okay, even when I know I'm not. But every mask withers and falls away after a time and it seems that's what has happened now. I do not know the whereabouts of Tamlin, and last I saw Rio had crossed the borders and left as well. Misty is an absentee like them as well, something that worries me somewhat, and Bright Moon feels like a ghost town. It's never truly bustling with activity -- we are a subtle group of lupines with no need to broadcast ourselves too much -- but it never feels quite so... abandoned. This scares me a little, because that torn part of me nags and says that it's very possible that they've bent to the pressure and they won't come back. I'm beginning to believe that part -- how long has it been since I've become this pessimistic bastard?
But I'm the beta of the pack and I have responsibilities I feel obligated to uphold, even when there's no one here to uphold theirs. My own coming and going is something that I still feel guilty for; I can't help but feel like a coward. Instead of facing my own feelings and thoughts, I ran from them. Even when I told myself I would not run any longer. It seems like broken promises have begun to embody the very meaning of my life, of my existance. I stand slowly from my spot curled beneath a tree which has become my resting area, a place to gather myself. Shaking out my thick golden fur, I blink and yawn, exposing glinting canines, and then take a moment to look into the depths of the forest, wondering if now will be the time one of my brothers will show himself. Apparently not -- no one comes. A soft, huffing sigh falls unbidden from my lips as I stretch my lean frame in a vaguely feline manner, pushing my forepaws down and sliding them against the slightly damp earth, rainwashed from recent precipitation. Wincing at the kink in my spine, I shake myself again and spring into a brisk, refreshing trot, pushing easily through the brisk, chilled wind which ruffles my pelt and has coldness creeping against my flesh. I shiver lightly, making my way about the basically empty borders and growing more disheartened because of the lack of life. Where is everyone? or i won't live to see another day |
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