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

When The Night Bleeds, The World Shall Fall..
IP: 71.237.51.99
Posted on October 30, 2012 at 02:28:20 AM by Silvah

A pure kind of cunning was set in the demoness' gazers as she stared at the two wolves, only blinking from time to time to allow the suggestion that she was not just a mere statue. In fact, the bloody girl was anything but one of those solid, marble icicles. She was more of a black blizzard, with a wretched banshee's cry and gusts of air powerful enough to shatter a bone as if it was made of glass. Most would become maddened if this kind of perspective was presented to them like an offering, but the girl was already that. Insanity loomed inside of her mind and blossomed, a petite daisy in a world of utter despair. The darkness overwhelmed all and every--almost as loathed and despised as death itself. But, can I tell you a little secret? Most are anxious for life just as much as death; they are two brawling beasts, locked in a faraway cavern until one is released--when one is born, or when one is near death.

Ah, Night Blood's opinion, you want to know? She thinks of death as a gift of mercy to one full of sickness, or pain. Of the mind, or body. Insanity is sickness of the mind, but it does not plague her. She is not a mere wolf, after all. Her mother was mounted for a reason--not just for the enjoyment of it. Well, perhaps one would not enjoy such a deed. Yet, this was of almost no importance to her at all. The thing of severe importance was her decision of slaughtering the feminine beast at the border ot not. He certainly feels like a gentleman, doesn't he? Well, he won't for long--not when Kershov or Enigma's through with him. The very thought made her smirk a little wider, nearly a smile, but not. It was much more demonic that a smile. Perhaps he would even become a mere, irksome peasent, a lovely little prisoner to add to their menu. The question was: Would the food be prepared?

If it was any other wolf, any varg other than Darien, who performed the dreaded deed of placing his cranium on her paws, she would have her teeth around their throats in an instant. She already felt the agitation and her hackles raising. She did not stop him; in fact, she settled down more comfortably, resting her head on his own. If he wanted to flirt--as Italians say, Cosė sia. So be it. She would as well. A smile filled with mockery and false warmth filled her muzzle, and her head slowly inched towards his left ear. She purred devilishly in it, a soft whisper-like voice cooing from her smile.

"Night Blood. At your service, Sir Darien Valentine."

She gave a pause for a glance at Key, stifling her purr. He was quite a feminine lad--not that he was a female, though. If he was, perhaps she still would be attracted to him, perhaps not. She wasn't exactly bisexual, but things could change. Even in a demented young adult, I suppose. Alas, in this one, the type of things change that wouldn't interest one of the fuller minds. Luckily, even if one thinks they have a fuller mind, here is a secret. Everyone is insane. Now, now, don't take that as an insult. Everyone has a certain level of insanity. It's just that this blood-covered stormcloud has a higher level of insanity than average. Anyway, after Darien's last comment, her cranium shifted toward the herb-stenched fellow, and she nodded. Honeyed lyrics slipped from her serpent's tongue once more. Her last words were directed at the silver-laced boy.

"Yes. This brute does seem to be of use to Abendrot. Perhaps you will survive here after all, Healer!"

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