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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:: If you truly knew, would you still love me ::
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The blizzard girl glided through the forest with ease. A elegantly evil smile tugging at blood stained kissers. The blood of trespassers spew across her coat. Not a single scratch lie upon her lethal bodice. They couldn't hurt the assassin in her element.The ivory girl was smothered in crimson. Several times she contemplated cleaning ones self, though pushing it back to continue on her way. A scent lingered in the air that drove her through the shadows of Abendrot. The powerful musk of her tundra alpha Kershov. Something drove her to get to know him more closely. Was it a feeling? No she felt no such thing as love, compassion, or really any happy emotion. It was more or less the knowing of his heritage. Knowing there were others like her, tundra carved. Icy demons. It drove her to impress him knowing where he came from and who he was. A gangster like herself. Though she couldn't say she shared the ice in her blood the ice certainly carved her features. She was something to view, but not as magnificent as Kershov.

Walking on the tips of toes she made no noise at all. Wait equally distributed between paws making her light as air. Swerving with the wind she continued to always stay down wind. Never once would they know she was coming, it was that deadly assassin streak in her. Covering distance with ease. Within seconds she was right there. Though not in view. Staying out of sight but in perfect position to watch the action. There was no hurry to show ones self. No need to come out till all the fun starts. It took a long time for the first sight of bright moon, but they eventually showed, though only about 2. It was growing boring watching though. Time to spice things up some.

Slowly she pushed from the shadowy brush. Ivory and crimson coming into view. Crystal blue orbs scanned over the others eyeing them. Bloodied paws trotted against the ground. Eyes catching sight of her beloved alpha. Slowly she approached the regal Kershov. Bowing like a good servant would do. Slowly she sat her hind down lifting her paws cleaning them from their crimson coats. Stopping she looked up locking eyes with Kershov. I apologize for my absence. Recently I encountered some....troublesome trespassers. I would like to confirm that problems with them well........ will no longer be existent. A sinful demonic grin wide spreads all across her maw. Devilish satisfaction shining through her eyes. Slowly she began to clean the crimson from her precious blizzard fur. Lolani was very satisfied in her kills. Good exercise for the day. Training, eh it was pretty easy. The to young big heads thought they could take a high rank like that. Not listening to her words what so ever. It was there faults. Thats all there was to it.

Blue orbs shot on a wolf. A male scenting of old Abendrot. By the looks he looked unlike the rest. Not a true pack wolf yet. Now clean she turned her head in his direction. This must be Marx. The solider that abandoned the pack. Now coming back to rejoin. Well that didn't happen as he planned. Kershov made him a prisoner, to be guarded. Silently she was up and over near him. Looking him over quietly. Might I ask why you returned. I'm sure you knew you would be punished. It intrigues me to know what drove you back. Quietly she asked. Not wanting to start a huge conversation with the prisoner.

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