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...?

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The midnight demon slipped through the air like silk on top of him and promptly exited their fantasy after Mamba walked in on them. Inside his head, he did entertain the thought of slicing the temptresses head off there and then, but wouldn’t that upset the big white bear known to them as Kershov. Marx stretched, still on his back and flopped his head to the side to look at Mamba. She had been looking and for them, his brow perked, clearly showing interest. What is it Mamba? Nothing left to torture and rip apart for her highness? Marx chuckled darkly at his own thoughts and then shook himself back into place like a naughty teen.

In one swift movement the onyx and sliver brute rolled onto his paws and stretched, waiting to hear what the temptress said and gibed at her as he flexed a front right paw, extending and flexing the digits in a grasping motion.

Why Mamba, I do believe its been far too long.

He nodded graciously to the lady and considered her appearance for a moment. He glanced at Enigma, not having looked at her since Mamba had come in and winked at her. We’ll get our time…somehow, my dear. Marx turned back to Mamba, his interest aroused and a charming smile on his maw.




M A R X
Equality Equals Death for all


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