Malignant Felicity is a paradisaical abode to the faithful remains of a mighty pack. Once ruled by the magnificent wolf Genocide, now the wolves of this pack follow the laws of the Alpha Lance, son of Sorna, Beta and Genocide's best friend...

The sounds of crashing water fill your auds as you enter this tropical paradise. The tall trunks tower above you. The treetop canopy's seem to shade the beautiful land from the sun's rays. What a paradise this place seems. This place dubbed Malignant Felicity. As you draw closer to the boarders a stench slowly devours the air around you. The stench of death.

"Beware..." scream the birds from above you. "She kills for games. She kills for fun." Something deep inside tells you to listen. Your body tells you not to go no further. Do you listen or do you dare move into the pack borders. This could be a life or death decision...

Follow the Queen, or become a corpse that lines her border. The choice lies with you.

Refresh/Reload

&& you remind me of what i really am
IP: 12.231.36.2


The moon shines brightly overhead, teasing me with its whites rays, a tempting replacement for the sunlight. I maneuver silently through the pack lands, hardly having to look up to know where I'm going, so familiar are my paws with this wild landscape. I've been in Malignant for years now, Queens' guard dog, as I know most of the wolves here like to call me when they think my back is turned and my ears turned off. Let the scroungrels talk, keeps them entertained while I keep the pack running smoothly. The queen may not always be present in Malignant, but I'll always make sure her influence is well known. I've followed her ideas from the beginning, which is saying something since I'm not usually a follower.

I grew up a lone wolf, an assassin, part of a guild who gave me hits and let me go on my way to dispose of them as I saw fit. I was taught stealth and secrecy, taught to sneak up on them in the night when they let their guard down. Over time though, that grew tiresome and I looked for a new way. I found it through daylight kills, fights to the death, battles over who would live and who would die. This is how I earned the many scars that pattern my midnight coat. I made a new way of doing things, a new way to kill and I enjoyed every second of it.

I'm coming around the borders, checking the markings, re-marking the old. Queens' markings, I leave untouched, wanting wolves to forever know who is the true leader of these lands. I also want them to know that there are wolves always present here and we know how to take care of our business. Just as I'm wandering over to the eastern edge of the border, I notice a new scent on the air. I stop raking my claws across the the treek trunks to pause and decipher it, nostrils twitching as I analyze. Female, no pack scent. Then her call reverberates through the lands, a haunting melody, not loud and obnoxious, more of an eerie lull. My ears prick, tail giving a flick of approval. Just what we need.

Finally the lady comes into sight, her fur a whirlwind of color, eyes bright and intelligent, her spine already kissing the earth. Saves me from having to ask. Death kissed lips pull back into a smirk as I stop before her, golden eyes glowing with intention. Welcome to Malignant Felicity, puppet. You look a little out of sorts on the ground but I won't say I'm not admiring the view. You can get up and state your name, though. I like putting names to the faces of anyone who makes the dirt look that good.



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