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

can you see me?[[ Frossy plot ONLY for 6 posts]]
IP: 70.56.230.123
Posted on December 9, 2012 at 02:27:38 AM by Jack Frost

ABENDROT SOLDIERS AND VALKYRIES

Yes. We have gained permission ooc.
But we're trespassing so you can treat us as any other mongrel
Keep it realistic.
No, you may not powerplay
Yes you may inflict damage/ capture any member of the group.
We too will fight back if needed.

GIVE US SIX POSTS TO COLLECT OUR BEARINGS BEFORE YOU POST.
(originally it was three, but we haven't even gotten past the borders yet ^^;;)
This is a game, after all, and we have the element of surprise.





*** Jack Frost ***

As young as the boy was… he knew not a single soul that he would consider a “friend” in any way. He had priorities amongst those he did know… Eris being the first and foremost… but other than that… it was really just a game he was playing. He did not exactly care for their well-being. Despite his spirited appearance, which one would usually associate with sociable beings that could never have too many friends… Frost did not harbor feelings for those whom had joined his little marauding group. If they failed this time… he would not come back for them. Survival of the fittest… was the strongest view that held place in his head. That… and fun. Oh yes. This time of year was when the first of snow had begun to fall upon the tundra, spitting white vomit all over the landscape. And he reveled in it. He adored it. Wherever there was snow, and the chance of a fun, enticing, and always dangerous game… Frost was there. Everything had to be fun and games… if it wasn’t… well… Jack would not be there. And if something ever went amiss- he would be gone lickety-split without a warning, as if he had never even been there at all to begin with. The one who made messes, but never cared nor stayed long enough to clean them up. Yes… that, in short, was the trickster and jokester, Jack Frost.

And here he was, with his stomach low to that wet, frigid, ground. His slender bodice slipped up beside a holly bush whose berries were starting to gain their rubies… filled with blood, most likely, from the smell of it. Frost wrinkled his narettes. This place smelled almost as bad as its neighboring pack, Malignant Felicity, did. Of course, the smell was not revolting, as many believe it to be—hah, only for those with weak stomachs would be forced to turn and give up on the endeavor of joining a Hell like this. Joining… the mere thought was, to Jack, even worse than the smell of coon’s piss on a Ponderosa pine. The smell of urine from a trash-eater, and the sickly sweet vanilla that lingered inside the tree’s bark… mixed together… made Frost want to regurgitate the remnants of his last lunch, which he had shared with Eris not but a few days ago. And… to not further digress, that was the reason why he was there. The reason they were all here. Food… and of course, a little bit of fun. Jack had disappeared before RoeVy could finish his words… without a trace of his whereabouts… but he was sure that they would pick up on the tracks he had left for them. The snow could not hide the fact that one existed, and that was the only downside to this wonderful season. Jack did not want to exist. He merely wanted to be “known.” And this was the first of many adventures. Certainly, this would be the one to spread the word.

The lightweight boy let out a huff of hot breath into the icy atmosphere, and his crisp, navy, turquoise and teal optics slipped from side to side to watch as the steam rose into the sky, where the first rays of sunlight were just starting to peek through the darkness the night had bestowed upon the earth’s surface. Morning… the perfect time to raid. It was not for pissed purposes that they were going to do this, of course, although it made the game ever the more fun to see the looks on their foes faces when they made off with something that had, an hour before, not belonged to them. That wasn’t the point. With Eris, the youngest of the group, being a pup, Jack was set on keeping her little puppish features fat over the winter. He didn’t need her dying on him. And…although he would not admit it to anyone, not even himself… a tinge of fear lingered on the outer part of her name. He did not want to lose that name from the tips of his tongue. But… as mentioned a little above… he won’t admit connections to anyone. And certainly, he will not become attached… for with the snow leaves… Jack Frost will merely be Pan once more… as was his real name, not the one he had adopted over the cold winter months, where he had forgotten the title for the time being. Alas, that is another story to tell at a different point in time.

And so the ice-covered young teenager waited patiently for his counterparts to come along. Most of them were females… and one of which… was the complete opposite of Frost himself. She was a fire being. One that could easily melt the duke… as well as the ice that had engulfed his childish heart, keeping it frozen for the year and a half he’d been “awake.” And he was somewhat afraid of getting near to her. He did not want to lose that childish side of him that was in love with only one thing… fun. His snow-white bells flickered impatiently, though he dare not move from his hidden state. He was not on the borders quite yet, but he was close enough to be considered fair game to the infamous soldiers of Abendrot, ruled by the Ice King himself, Kershov, or so he was called by his minions and his own lunatic head. A smirk pressed itself onto Frossy’s lips, showing off pearly white ivories that glittered in the newborn light of morn. The time to test just what these soldiers could do… was coming closer by the seconds passing.

Hahah, one last thing.
There’s only room for ONE Ice King in this world.
Kershov was just going to have to give up his crazy, moronic dreams.
Jack Frost ruled THAT title.

Stupid old man.


Once everyone was there, Frost would give them a stupid, overly toothy grin, and then begin to sneak forward, not even hesitating a moment... to step over that border and begin to run towards the stench of venison.
The goal? A haunch. ;)


Sincerely, Jack Frost.
Boy | Younger Teen | Orphan | One Without a Shadow | Frozen Arteries | kiki
word count: 1027



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