The forest stands tall and lush here; ancient trees reach weather-twisted arms to the sky, fighting monster-like storm clouds back with their interlacing fingers. Shadow seems to lurk everywhere you look, but it spills calmly, coolly, inspiring a sense of stealthy calm or protection rather than unease. That is, if you've forgotten what kind of creature might be stalking just out of sight...Abendrot is a land cradled by the dark woods on all sides; in the center, some of the larger trees stay behind to reveal a small plateau - a citadel where this pack can gather and defend itself from invaders. There are, of course, softer sides to the land. Clearings here and there allow the sun to throw down its rays in incongruously resplendent gold showers. Ignore the lingering scents of blood spattered here and there along the borders: those do not concern you. The river on one edge of the territory is playful enough when it hasn't been gorged by violent rain. You can choose to note the ragged claw marks raked down tree trunks and the forest floor as friendly "Home Sweet Home" signs, if you wish.
All who treasure loyalty, order, victory, and the occasional indulgence of raw visceral pleasure are welcome, once they've been approved by the ever-watchful eyes of Abendrot's Alpha. But keep one thing in mind: no matter what your motive, this is not a fool's Paradise. This is the land of soldiers, assassins, and spies. This is ABENDROT.
Make up your mind quickly and prepare to prove your worth. You wouldn't want to add to those blood spatters, would you...?
IP: 75.91.95.60
Posted on June 17, 2012 at 02:23:17 AM by Enigma
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I was raised in a tundra pack, the kind of cruel, soulless creatures that don't know the definition of mercy. I was told what to do and when to do it until I came of age and even then, I had to prove myself before I could get out from everyone else's thumb. If you weren't useful, you were a waste of space and no one was afraid to tell you as much. I learned to hunt and to scout and to track other packs and spy when necessary. I learned how to fight and pretend and how to turn someone's mind into mush. I learned how to lie on a dime and make up a story out of thin air for an alibi. I learned how to manipulate and turn the tides against the wolves I didn't care much for. I had to. It was that or die. It was a game of survival and I sure as shit wasn't going six feet under. I can never say I felt the stirrings of love in my chest. I can't say I ever felt the flutterings of butterflies in my stomach or the parched throat of someone made suddenly unable to talk. Now, I can't say that I haven't been attracted to someone before. In Courage, I met Blue Blood and he sure knew how to make a girl's blood boil, in a good way of course. Every time he was near, my skin prickled and my blood felt like it was on fire in my veins. He was witty and smart and cruel, just like I like them. And then there's Marx of course. The male I tell myself I can't stand to this day so that I can guard myself from feeling what I truly feel for him. How can I know what to feel when I've never understood feelings? Emotions of that magnitude just aren't in my vocabulary. I barely remember the traditions from my tundra pack. I remember that my mother didn't really love my father, or like him that much. She bred with him out of duty. She never had to tell me, I just knew. There were no loving couples, just females who picked a male that would breed a strong bloodline. The top fighters sometimes got three or four females a season. My father was the third highest fighter on the totem pole so I had about two other litters out there with half sisters and brothers. I never asked why I didn't see my father much. He saw us when we were born to approve of us and then saw us two weeks later to approve of the rate of our growth. I got to see what happens when you don't make the cut when I was a yearling. I watch the father of a litter throw a cub from the group and held my breath while three other wolves attacked it like a rabbit. There was nothing left by the time they were through except for a softly weeping mother. These were normal every season, not a spectacle. The first thing I pick up on is a strong cologne near the borders. Instantly, I head off at a brisk trot, my paws cupping the grounds, making my approach silent as the wind. Ears flicker alertly, tail swaying neutrally behind me. Two toned eyes of blue and green scan the surroundings, picking up on the shadows of the day until I can make out brown eyes and a light coat. Ah, handsome, aren't we? Lips curve up into a graceful smirk as I dance lightly through the trees toward him, watching as he sits and calls out. I can't help but cock my head to the side and let a girlish giggle drip from my ivory lips before I step out of the shadows. Eyes gleam mischeveously as I circle around toward him, tail swaying playfully now. Oh come on, do let me have a little more time looking. I find you to be much more handsome when you don't speak. The last part comes out in a purr-like sound as I lean in close to his muzzle, even daring to slowly lick my chops as if I'm staring at my next meal. |
Replies:
- INSTINCTS - By Wolverine June 18, 2012 at 06:47:43 PM
Watch Me Come Undone - By Enigma June 21, 2012 at 03:41:55 AM
INSTINCTS - By Wolverine June 21, 2012 at 10:47:05 PM
Watch Me Come Undone - By Enigma June 23, 2012 at 02:25:53 AM
INSTINCTS - By Wolverine June 28, 2012 at 05:44:21 PM
ICE KING - By KERSHOV June 29, 2012 at 05:02:36 PM
Watch Me Come Undone - By Enigma June 30, 2012 at 02:06:35 AM
INSTINCTS - By Wolverine July 1, 2012 at 10:23:45 PM
ICE KING - By KERSHOV July 10, 2012 at 06:50:40 PM