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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I never said you'd survive your fall
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The ebony and sliver fox glided through the trees, paws jutting out to eat up the space between him and his alpha since the varg called on all his loyal subjects to come to him. Marx had no idea what the meeting would have to do with, but he guessed it was mainly to show that Kershov remained unbeaten and strong as ever. An afterthought of Abendrot’s supposed ‘Queen’ struck Marx’s mind as he glanced over his shoulder at the two forms following obediently close behind him. He didn’t feel the need to watch his back from Scorpio; he knew he could take both of them in a fight- even if they somehow got a jump on him. However, he did feel the need to keep them close. They possibly weren’t welcome anymore and his guidance might be the only thing stopping them losing their heads. If they entered with Marx and had indeed followed him from the border, he gave no introductions, but rather would let Kershov decide what to do with them. Most wolves would go and blab to the king about how they found him, but Marx thought Kershov was smart enough to figure out this relatively simple situation on his own.
Marx smiled as he entered the clearing.

His form merged into the clearing at the same pace, not flattering a step his classic wolf trot. He slowed as he reached the king and gave a bow.

My king. Congratulations on your victory. I have selected a clearing to the western border, which will suit our purpose when the meeting is finished.

Why the western border, you ask? Simple. That border had the least corpses on it, so the recruits (if they had half a brain) would realize they’d soon be fleshing up the scent of death on the western gateway into Abendrot unless they performed like good little circus monkeys. Marx nodded datively as was habit once he’d finished speaking and let his gazers move over to Fallancy and gave her a respectful nod, but no cheeky wink or smile as usual. Perhaps something wasn’t the same. His tail waved back and forth once and then he let his rump meet the ground after checking the position of everyone at the meeting.




M A R X
Equality Equals Death for all


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