Malignant Felicity is a paradisaical abode to the faithful remains of a mighty pack. Once ruled by the magnificent wolf Genocide, now the wolves of this pack follow the laws of the Alpha Lance, son of Sorna, Beta and Genocide's best friend...

The sounds of crashing water fill your auds as you enter this tropical paradise. The tall trunks tower above you. The treetop canopy's seem to shade the beautiful land from the sun's rays. What a paradise this place seems. This place dubbed Malignant Felicity. As you draw closer to the boarders a stench slowly devours the air around you. The stench of death.

"Beware..." scream the birds from above you. "She kills for games. She kills for fun." Something deep inside tells you to listen. Your body tells you not to go no further. Do you listen or do you dare move into the pack borders. This could be a life or death decision...

Follow the Queen, or become a corpse that lines her border. The choice lies with you.

Refresh/Reload

your demise. your end. your wrongs.
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Straight white limbs strode through the border, a slight limp accompanied the movement, but that was more from overwork than injury. Arcadian took onboard the pain and made himself walk correctly, not wanting any muscle wastage or too overwork other muscles to rest this one. His abdomen was on fire and nothing but opening a few throats would calm the burning fury he had at his pack mates. He and Devil had sacrificed their bodies for the sake of feeding the pack and Arcadian would make sure everyone fed well before the absent members of the pack were to feed at all. It was one thing to not turn up to a hunt, it was another to turn up, promise your involvement and then leave. Vivid green lanterns burned with lively fire and his ivory bodice was stained with blood, his own and the bucks. Frustration set in about not opening his pack mate’s throats, but that would be treason…even if they deserved it. He left the later members to show up to the hunt to drag the carcass back to malignant. He had a hunch he needed to be there..now.

Queen’s scent smacked him in the nose and for a moment, he jut inhaled it and enjoyed the flavor of his favorite lady. Stealthy paws brought him closer and he bid no time wasted on hiding in the brushes, yet as he entered, he diverted his eyes off of Queens once he understood her form and onto the stranger. Alarm bells rung in his head, although all that was produced on the outside was a charming smile. He trotted over to Queens and bowed to her, even if she didn’t bother to look at him, then trained his gaze squarely on the outsider. The brute stood high and strong looking, much like himelf, although his pelt was clean, however he was more scarred than Arcadian. Fair enough, Arcadian hadn’t met any real opponents of late. It occurred to him that one might be standing right in front of him, this Kershov, this arctic monster as the rumor mill called him. Arcadian almost giggled, the king of Abendrot was certainly ready for battle- but he didn’t know that Queens would quite literally fuck him over.

Arcadian tried to process what he felt about Queens having yet another lover, if you could call it that. Technically, he’d just been a tool in her master plan and probably felt rather used at the moment. Arcadian signed as if bored and widened his stance a little. He wasn’t afraid to take down the big, bad, white wolf. He let his rump meet the ground to the left of Queens and kept that smug little smile of his dial- perhaps Kershov would lose it and attack him. He didn’t hope this because Kershov had fucked Queens and she would have his pups- he wanted it because it had been far too long without a proper fight.

Oh, he hoped so very much for that to happen. Call him selfish. He hoped Kershov's next decision was a stupid one.




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