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: 76.243.46.249
Posted on December 5, 2012 at 03:23:27 AM by VLADYA
 | He must have blacked out for a few seconds—kinda common protocol for him nowadays—because the next thing Vladya knew, some stranger’s nose was all up in his face, sweet warm breath tickling his brow and a gentle scent of herbs and femininity alighting on his stench of decay. Vlad’s swollen eyes cracked open as much as they could until he could just barely make out the form of a young fae. What? What the hell is she doing here? The shock jumpstarted the pale wolf’s heart until it hammered hard in his chest. Nobody had come to visit him in all his time in Abendrot—nobody. Kershov had isolated him from the very beginning. No one came in to say hi, no one came in to help out their King with his scheduled torture, not a damn soul ever came up to inspect the battered brute in his makeshift prison. So . . . who was this lady? Why was she here? Shit . . . had Kershov suddenly allowed packmembers to join in on the fun? Goody. Maybe they’d kill him accidentally and end this nightmare. A rusty growl grated in Vladya’s throat, faltering a little as the unknown lass called him a “poor, poor thing.” Um, what? Weird—that had sounded like she meant it, as if this random girl actually cared about the absolutely horrifying state Vlad was in. The growl died in the ice demon’s throat. When was the last time he’d heard genuine concern in another wolf’s voice? Holy shit, he couldn’t even remember. How freaking sad. Vlad tried to crack open his dry maw to speak—to say SOMETHING—but before he could utter a single snide comment the comforting bird was gone. Then Vladya’s heart started to hammer even harder. What in the hell was going on? Did the pack really not know what their Alpha had been up to? Was this clueless femina about to inform Kershov of her discovery? Yeah, that would go over well. Sorry sweetheart, but Ker is MORE than aware of the secret he’s been hiding in the basement. No rescues today. A high-pitched whine sliced through Vladya’s teeth as he attempted to huddle in on himself, wanting to conserve as much warmth as possible. His traitorous body wasn’t ready to die yet; it shivered and shook to generate heat, his thick arctic pelt useless when shredded by gaping wounds. Eventually the strange princess returned—this time with a bundle of crap. Vlad didn’t need sight to tell him that she’d brought over a whole slew of plants. Hell, her voice was ridiculously nice. All soft and shit. Since the whipped dog could hardly see, he had to imagine the way she looked: probably downy and smooth like a baby bird, with some dopey expression of kindness on her face. Great. Little Miss Bleeding Heart thinks grass is going to cure me. Vladya’s emotions couldn’t seem to sort themselves out. Happiness at being found fought with distrust and fear and paranoia until all the ivory warrior wanted was to be left alone to die in peace. Unfortunately, being left alone wasn’t in the cards for Vlad. Yet another stranger wandered in, a male by the scent and deep voice. Vladya cringed away from the stranger’s muzzle as he came up to inspect his sorry hide, expecting to be bitten or whatever. Kershov might just have been sick enough to raise Vlad’s hopes for healing, just to crush them and send in two heartless assassins. For all the cur knew these strangers were currently plotting the cleanest way to finish him off. “If you’re going to kill me, cut the crap and get it done. I’m tired of this bullshit.” The words limped out of Vladya’s mouth, thick with pain and razor defiance. He was a foul-mouthed gangster by nature—manners didn’t apply to him. |
Replies:
- no one would miss me [ finished ] - By [ key ] December 5, 2012 at 04:46:43 AM
hope is a frail thing - By Verity December 6, 2012 at 00:50:32 AM
the oddity is never the best way to make friends - By i v e v December 6, 2012 at 05:37:00 AM
I HATE MY LIFE - By VLADYA December 11, 2012 at 09:33:37 PM