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 July 12, 2012 at 01:49:18 PM by KERSHOV
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Kershov wrinkled his nose at the smell of an outsider clinging faintly to his fur. The emotionless brute titled “Lore” hadn’t been a disappointment as far as recruits went—but the ivory Emperor was feeling more touchy as of late, and even the slightest trace of an outside scent made him cringe. Smothered. That was the word. Kershov felt smothered, buried in the weight of his own seething aggression and irritation. This hadn’t been a problem back on the arctic tundra: there, the thirst for violence had been quenched with battles almost daily. None of this tension-strung waiting around. None of this walking on eggshells, expecting war when there would probably be nothing more than another stressful day. Kershov could handle war, definitely—it was the never-ending uncertain span of peace that had him wanting to eat off his own fur. Annoyed, the cold King rubbed his side against one of the blood-drenched trees by the border, soaking up the signature of Abendrot into his pelt and spreading his own kingly cologne. There, much better. The grimace warping Ker’s savaged maw into something worse than a nightmare softened back into a blank mask once more. A sense of frigid calm soothed the anger clawing at the inside of his blizzard-raging chest. “Since I’m here . . .” Kershov started slinking through the woods, alternately brushing his thick white pelt against rough bark and standing on his hind legs to rake his front claws down defenseless trees. He liked the last bit the most—shredding though tender tree-flesh to leave permanent, deep scars that would warn all outsiders that this land was HIS. After attacking a few more imaginary enemies, something real tapped Ker’s ferocious attention: another outsider. A female. By the fence. And Scorpio as well. Kershov’s ears perked with interest. He hadn’t seen the second-in-command of his soldiers in a while. Scorpio must have a rather interesting story to share. The massive bone-colored monster stalked closer. Soon his fathomless black eyes beheld the onyx form of Scorpio, as well as a young dark femme with fresh blood—her own blood—painting her shoulder. Kershov’s hackles spiked. Had she been disobedient? Scorpio was a good soldier; Ker knew he wouldn’t randomly attack a potential recruit if she didn’t deserve it. Hmm . . . well, the lass appeared to be behaving herself now. “Trouble?” the Alpha barked out, the question open for either wolf to answer. He nodded curtly to Scorpio in thanks, giving him a long look that said he wanted to talk later, and turned to better appraise the fae. “I’d hate to have to make a prisoner of such a promising girl.” | |
Replies:
- Do you feel the burn? - By Scorpio July 17, 2012 at 09:15:45 PM