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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tell me can you see me [ray-ray]
IP: 156.34.189.153
Posted on June 30, 2012 at 00:29:12 AM by tamlin.


Satowra was gone and was never coming back. It was a crushing truth, but a truth that Tamlin would eventually be forced to accept. Now, however, the immature child that resided deep inside his inner nature flinches away from the irrevocable with all the intensity of his will. She is not gone in his mind. The only way for him to keep going is to imagine her somewhere; to imagine her happy, safe and secure. He would not begrudge the lass her blissful life, for even though his queen has broken him inside, he still loves her. Yes, love. He realized somewhat belatedly that loyalty and trust had, at some point, extended beyond the realm of comradeship. Tamlin wouldn't have even cared if she had chosen to mate with Omni Cader and ignored his affections if they became too apparent. He is...was her knight. He was never the kingly sort, a wolf to be protected and a wolf to simply give orders. Tamlin was a warrior, a gallant boy desperate to serve his alpha. He worked arduously for Satowra, each day of the existence he had previously led he had striven to do better, to strain harder and get more done, all because of the charcoal femme with the jagged scar.

Yet in the end, she hadn't even cared enough to give him an explanation for why she had departed. Rio and Raylen had been similarly affected by her callous actions, scarred and pained in the same way that he had been by her outright cruelty toward them. It hadn't been fair, that was for sure. The lady whose melodic words had preached of justice really had no right to speak of kindness and mercy ever again. She had torn their hearts asunder, stomped all over them, then left the battered trio to pick up the pieces. Rio and Raylen had forsaken him a while. Tamlin assumed that they had departed as to wander, using the method of solitude to rid themselves of the mental anguish. The milky bronco himself would have doubtless fled Bright Moon and all that it entailed had the maiden not chained him to the lands with her last command. Because of that final hurt she inflicted on him, he's never healed. Rather, Tamlin has learned to hide his mental wounds. With the mantle of leadership bearing down on his previously callow shoulders, the snow hued boy hasn't been free to allow himself the luxuries that he'd require to begin the healing process. Rather, he's been forced to live in the territory overflowing with the subtle phantoms of her memory, every moment without plausible distraction hurting him in some strange part of his chest that he hadn't known existed before she abandoned them.

Perhaps it was foolish for him to have been so dependant. Tamlin was taking a break from his duties and enjoying the balm of silence and solitude when a sudden bout of angst struck him. It was nostalgia, plain and simple, paired with a feeling of loneliness almost too intense for him to handle. He looked unmistakably grim as he galloped like a fleeing stag about his borders, almost as if he was endeavoured to outdistance his feelings themselves with the sheer ferocity of his velocity. That would be, of course, laughably impossible, but at the moment he was not the logical, the level headed varg who led Bright Moon pack and always calmly and courteously went about his tasks. He was just Tamlin, for one moment the protective wolf that had the potential to value one creature above all others. He stretched his legs still farther, bringing himself to an impressive speed, a pace not many could match. For a while, he sprinted, but it was inevitable that his steps would have to slow. Gathering the wits that had momentarily been deserted about himself, the czar inhibited the rapid strides, finally decelerating to an effortless jog. Eventually, he halted and composed himself, masking his features, glad that dreary contemplations were at an end. He thought to return to the main area of the lands, away from this quietly forested plane, but something held him back. At first, it wasn't a tangible something. The wind blew his scent toward his pack brother and wafted his pack brother's perfume away from him, so he had no idea that Raylen actually lurked not too far from his current location. Then the fickle breeze, which had been blowing fitfully since the dawn's pale fingers had stretched across the sky, decided to bless him with the news of his friend and comrade. As the scent brushed his olfactory senses, his ears pricked and his tail gave a quick, almost involuntary flick. His brother had been absent for moons, so it was only right that Tamlin would wish to see him.

He begins to trot once more, propelling his lithe frame along on stately stilts until his chassis breaks through the foliage. He brings himself to a halt a few tail lengths from the boy, observing him with intent, navy blue eyes scrutinizing him almost blankly. Tamlin hides his emotions – it's rational, but in his current state he allows the mask to crack a bit. Raylen can likely read the emotions he feels, the slight snag of betrayal at his friends long depature, along with the willingness to forgive. But first, he needs an explanation. Wolves cannot keep popping in and out of his life like misguided ghosts, one moment there for him to rely on and the next moment gone, off to do their own thing. It hurts to think it, but this might be the last time he accepts Raylen into his heart. The former beta needs to either come and stay or go and stay away... They say that love hurts the most, and the previous anti-social is starting to realize the truth in that bitter saying.

"Raylen." He dipped his head politely, then continued. "It's been too long."



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