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: 76.243.46.249
Posted on June 26, 2012 at 00:07:56 AM by KERSHOV
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The fae’s sincere words were pure music to Kershov’s waiting ears. The light and alluring half-grin on his half-handsome muzzle stretched to his sharply carved cheekbones, every fang and hard carnassial tooth gleaming like polished ivory in a pleased, hungry smile. His fathomless liquid onyx pools speared straight into Sicaria’s crystalline blues, though she wisely and humbly averted her gaze. What a polite young creature. The arctic King always preferred the polite ones. The best soldiers were equal parts brave and ferocious and loyal, following their Commander for the good of the pack. But better soldiers also had minds of their own. Kershov greatly admired the black-splashed femme’s desire to better sound the purpose of her mission before taking it. Some wolves would have backed away and ran as fast as they could, not wanting the pressure of responsibility upon acceptance into the territory; others might have immediately demanded a mission, regardless of danger, just to prove themselves. Ker held no grudges against the ones that were smart enough to realize their place lay outside Abendrot, and he often complemented the reckless enthusiasm of gung-ho soldiers. It was a rare wolf, however, that demonstrated such careful forethought. Sicaria’s wisdom actually reminded the alabaster gangster a bit of his cool, calm, and collected Beta. “Understandable, Madame Sicaria. This mission would not be of an inherently dangerous nature—I’d rather keep my newest recruits alive for as long as possible. Are you aware of a certain band of misfits known as Bright Moon? Abendrot’s relationship with them is somewhat . . . tenuous, at the moment. As you can imagine, it’s a pain.” Ker shrugged his hard-muscled shoulders, making his thick bone-colored fur ripple. “We’ve tried to reason with them, to no avail. That’s where someone like you comes in. It’s a plan in its nascent stage, but what do you think, Madame? Interested?” | |
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