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...?

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The Killer of Autumn
IP: 24.229.133.55

He stood up and stiffened completely at the beta. He nodded in understanding and ran through the shrubs, wanting to stay hidden as possible when attacking the brute.

Soon he was found and AutumnLeaf growled. He aimed for the brute's tail, hoping to at leat rip the tip of it off. If he missed, he would tumble but get back on his feet. If he hit, he most likely ripped part of his tail off.

He attacked again, letting his claws come out, hoping to scratch the brute's back, deep. He needed blood. He needed wolf meat. That's how much he wanted to be an cannibal. But that would never happen. If he missed, he tumbled once more. If he hit, the brute's back would bleed.

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