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

hope is a frail thing
IP: 98.166.218.198





Verity had not left. Ever. She had just slunk quietly in the shadows, shirking her duties and allowing the others to think she was merely gone. But you see, she was always there. In fact, she had seen the might alabaster devil move through the forest, though she had no idea the damage her might king would be inflicting on the poor white dog inside. She was a watcher; a curious thing for one so meek. She watches always; always following her demon in white, her king. And so, when he emerged, maw dripping with blood, her curiosity became aroused, heightening from her average ditzy self to a peak of fearful curiosity.

She moved quietly after he had left, her snowy frame gliding along the snow of feather light paws. The ditzy white femme peered fearfully into the cave, noting the snow covering the entrance. This was a barren area; it was the perfect place to crawl into and die. The healer moved quietly into the darkness, her snowy cloak in stark contrast of the lovely darkness around her. She moved with a silent ease, her nares unfussy. Until she stepped in something. Something warm, wet, and very sticky. She tensed and lifted her paw slowly, her face acknowledging her fears as she inhaled. She gritted her teeth, though a low squeal of distaste broke through her clenched daggers.

Now she was looking. She searched the darkness for the source of the crimson life liquid, her eyes resting on the battered alabaster male. The pearl healer slunk towards him, her delicate words almost as soft as the scent of herbs upon her pelt. ”You poor, poor thing. What has he done to you?” She mumbled quietly, her head shaking in despair. She scanned his body quietly, touched his face with her chilled nose, recoiling at the burning heat.

”Fever. She mumbled quietly to herself. She exited the den, returning soon with a small bundle; she had stored some herbs before winter had decided to blanket all growth. ”Hello, dear? Are you alive. Or awake? I’m here to help…If you want it I mean… She whispered quietly, standing awkwardly a few meters away. She wasn’t shy to blood, not at all, but she couldn’t help but feel as though she had intruded…






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