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: 75.90.63.197
Posted on October 20, 2012 at 02:12:58 AM by Enigma
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When the whiff of a female on the borders hits my nostrils, my porcelain lips instantly pull into a smirk as I stand up and shake the dust from my coat. I've been itching for some action lately. I almost ripped out Falk's throat, the dirty bastard who threw himself on Ruhani. She gained some of my respect by choosing death for him. At least I got to get my teeth wet on that assignment. But now my muscles are restless and my tongue is itching for that sweet sweet tang again. I pick up my pace to a gentle lope, my ears flickering alertly. I can already smell the strong heady cologne of Kershov. He's always been so good about keeping the borders marked. But then another familiar cologne reaches my nostrils, my stride hesitating for a split second before I charge on in determination. Looks like good loyal Marx beat me to the punch. Oh well, I'm not going to let him ruin my moment. I've been doing my best to avoid the silver male, his charms and guile throwing me off every time we do happen to cross paths. He's my greatest weakness but I'm not about to let him know that. He doesn't even act like he wants to earn my trust back. Just as I avoid him for awkwardness sake, it's like I'm the plague to him. He keeps himself busy training the troops and I let him do his thing while I do my own solo routine. It's a living, for sure. I like being Beta. It means I don't have to worry about the assassins or spies because they have their own agendas and their own captains to report to. And yet I'm over them all. Ah, the bliss of having authority. Soon enough two figures come into view and I find time to raise a brow in surprise when I notice that the female is large with pups. I inhale her perfume once more, wanting to further analyze it and when nothing comes up, my curiosity only thickens. I stop next to Marx, making sure my coat doesn't come close to brushing his own, not trusting my reaction if it happens. I set my dual toned gaze on the female, noting her cool confidence and her witty attitude. Quite the charmer herself. And then memories come to mind of a female I heard the pack talking about some time ago, a female who charmed her way with Kershov and then they were found leaving for some alone time. I tilt my head some, taking in her bloated stomach once more and a theory pops into my head but I only give her an inside look, a gleam in my eyes that tells her I can guess what she's here to tell my alpha male but don't worry, I won't spill her little secret. Wouldn't want to steal her limelight. I take in her supple frame, still lean and muscular even with the bulge. You can tell she keeps herself fit and she holds herself like a wolf who knows something about authority herself. She doesn't strike me as a loner but maybe that too is a secret she wants to keep to herself. Oh well, not my business. I flick my tail as I smirk once more and turn my head just a little toward Marx, not enough to fully take in his handsome features but just enough to set one bright blue eye on him. I believe we're facing the infamous Minaj, Marx. Kershov and her are very well acquainted, though I'm sure she won't mind having some flattering company until the king arrives. I never let one ear stray from the female, trusting my instincts that even in child, she's still worthy of being watched. I don't think she's here to start trouble but she strikes me as the type who could if she wanted to and that's enough to earn my respect, or at least some. Meanwhile I try not to focus on the heated space between my coat and his, the empty coolness where my body feels a rising need to press closer to him. Only by every fiber in my being do I hold myself back from doing so. All the while I'm cursing myself for this weakness. Shouldn't I be over him by now? Shouldn't I have been able to get over this irrational need and find someone else I can trust? Who am I kidding? I've never trusted anyone but myself. It's how I was raised, how I was trained. |
Replies:
- FROZEN MASS GRAVE - By KERSHOV October 20, 2012 at 05:13:35 PM
the reaper - By Minaj October 21, 2012 at 10:07:46 AM
don't be such a sore LOSER - By Marx October 21, 2012 at 12:08:35 PM
Watch Me Come Undone - By Enigma October 22, 2012 at 00:28:15 AM
FROZEN MASS GRAVE - By KERSHOV October 24, 2012 at 02:18:01 AM
Watch Me Come Undone - By Enigma October 27, 2012 at 02:12:39 PM