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...?

Refresh/Reload

an arrow through my heart May I have another?
IP: 101.98.186.59



I’ve waited for this day…

The tension in the air had turned into promise of something more. It was like the humidity that sometimes built up in Abendrot, it built and built and built until it was unbearable and you wished for rain. Clouds would burst, throats would be displaced and red would rain down. Marx held a smile as he entered, but it soon dropped it soon as Enigma came into view. Dammit. He scented the air and glanced at both the new male arrivals, catching their gaze as his sliver and ebony bodice graceful stepped past. Muscled flesh coiled like springs under his robes. His icy grey eyes met Kershov’s paws and he gave a courteous bow to his leader, gracing the air with his clipped, cold tones.

My king.

He almost said something further, but held it in, words were not what he was known for. Words weren’t often needed for spilling the crimson lifeblood of another. However, words and charm were his forte. He turned and went to move away, but hesitated and glanced at Enigmas mismatched gaze. Just a fleeting second of pure nothing in his eyes, before the hard look returned. The look that made most wolves just wonder whom the sliver and black beauty was. A scar on his snout, curving down near a canine, deforming the slightest bit of lip. It was still a dark pink, a recent outbreak over a kill. It gave him an almost permanent sneer. The scar was ugly, but he still looked far better than the pieces of what he fought. He smiled and felt the scar tissue stretched for the first time in a long while.

Always a pleasure M’am.

Hopefully she wouldn’t rip his throat out for that one.








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