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

play.time.play.time.play.time [Enigma/OPEN]
IP: 101.98.129.249







Another patrol, another length of time gone in his life. The rain poured down on him and he narrowed his eyes as he looked around, the rain could wash away and fool with scents, so vision must be more his first tool. He felt him an Enigma were coming to something, even if it was the point were the Bta of Abendrot ripped the Commander’s throat out. The ebony ans sliver robes now draped tightly over his skin, slick fur ecposing every curve of lean muscle and tendon. His eyes seemed darker in the low light and he stalked near the border like a wolf hunting something down. He shook the excess water off, but new it was time to find shelter. A thicket with large overhanging, mutiple layers of tree’s that barely let a drop in. The result was a patch of moss that thrived on the semi moist conditions and Marx curcled up on that and laid his head on his forepaws and closed his eyes.

You were a fool to thnk he was sleeping, however.



M A R X
Equality Equals Death for all


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