Bright Moon - a land sullied by mystery and the ravaging scars of a terrible fire. Abandoned as a pack land for years, the terra has been used as a gathering place for the brazen and bloodthirsty drawn there by the lingering pall of death. Yet from the ashes there comes an unordained phoenix, the rainbow hues of hope glinting in her mismatched globes. Through the obsidian drapes obscuring the scenery, she alone was able to catch the perfumed aroma of new life on the breeze and hear the sluggish streams flowing ever swifter into the morning.

Thus, with a purpose, she set out to map the incognita, discovering daily the extent of the reawakening and unearthing within herself a desire to return the landscape to its former glory. Now she stands tall as privileged Alpha of the lands, lording over the rock-strewn prairie and bountiful forests with a firm but gentle paw.

Having finally realized her deepest longing to be a queen, Satowra is focused solely on the revival and maintenance of the Bright Moon Pack. Her question to each prospective warrior that comes to the border is simple:

"Do you have what it takes?"

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momento mori
IP: 156.34.248.253
Posted on March 17, 2013 at 09:54:19 PM by Tamlin

There was a feeling in his heart that he could not shake, a dense, tepid nebula of raw emotion had inserted itself snugly into his very soul. There was no way that the silver-toned stag could shake the lingering feelings. He wasn't well enough acquainted with his own soul to know that the emotion had a name, and that name was loneliness, rather only understanding that something was getting him down. Tamlin was not a mopey wolf by nature. Instead, he was one of the few creatures that possessed the ability to collect himself in whatever circumstance and push through until he had either met with success or complete and irreparable failure. However, when the threat came from within, there was little he could do to fight his own feelings. The moon had passed over the sky many times since the loss of Satowra, but he still felt it, raw and searing like a fresh burn. She had been a shining star in the darkness of his previous life, and he'd placed his complete trust in her. She had betrayed that trust. Pleasant memories fade into a haze, but those times in our lives when the unthinkable and tragic transpire we can remember with utmost clarity. It is for that reason that the pallid knight can still remember that fateful call. He'd come loping to his lady's behest only to be informed that he was to take her place. Satowra had not even looked back at the borders of the lands that she had once vowed to protect or the soldier on whose shoulder's she'd lain her burden.

Despite not being able to properly enunciate his feelings, Tamlin was dealing with them as best as he could. He pushed away the memories, replacing them with tactical strategies for a war with Abendrot that no doubt would never even transpire. His expression was nonexistent in the fact that his palate was perfectly smooth. He wore an uncaring mask that seemed as thick and uninterpretable as an iron fortress. He neither smiled nor frowned, rather keeping the icy semblance of an warlord etched upon his face. It has been said that eyes are the true mirrors to the soul, but not so for this picture of control: his pair of dark blue gazers concealed any truths that tried to leak through their depths and into the outside world.

The slender male had not seen Venga or Ambrosia in some time, and while he was not one to needlessly become paranoid over the safety of either wolfess, he wondered about their whereabouts. There disappearing act was perhaps the impetus behind his sudden bout of depression. It took a lot to earn Tamlin's trust (Venga and Ambrosia were some of the first to manage the feat after Rio and Raylen left him, and although the list of ones he cherished was growing, he was still guarded). The realization that his sorrows had a concrete cause had a slightly soothing effect on the moon-white alpha-male. It was reassuring to know that he had not simply become one of the mopey and useless for no reason. However, even though he had a legimate cause for concern, Tamlin did not allow himself to have another moment of respite. Duties were duties, and he had many responsibilities to the lands that could be avoided no longer.

The wolves of Bright Moon had been lying low for the last few weeks, as had the male himself. He'd eaten but sparingly, not eating as much as he should have. Hence, his rumbling stomach and substantially decreased energy level led him to make the decision that he would embark on a brief hunting mission. He exited his lands to do so, not wanting to deprive Bright Moon of a rabbit. After all, winter was coming, and every piece of prey within the pack would be valuable. He was not the sort to take the bounty of his lands for granted when the cold winds would soon blow.

The wolves from Saw Tooth must have arrived while Tamlin was otherwise occupied in the capture and devouring of his prey, for when the summoning howl called, Tamlin had only just finished cleaning his palate of blood and was some distance from the confines of his territory. He responded as promptly as was possible, turning swiftly and making his way toward the source of the call at a quick canter. As it stood, it took a good ten minutes for the snowy leader to near the area in which the two diplomats' scents emanated from. The prospect of having foreign wolves, particularly those that smelled strongly of another pack, had meshed with the energy-burning prospect of the hunt to allow him some respite from the feelings that had previously plagued him. Tamlin may have previously been playing the part of the misguided ghost, but now he was pure alpha.

He slipped amongst the trees, his lean body moving silently. Tamlin had resided within Bright Moon for longer than any wolf currently within the pack, and knew the lands well enough to move very quietly within them. To a degree, he prided himself for this – it was the seemed that being swallowed up by the scenery was the very epitome of belonging within that place. His stealth was more habit than necessity, so he did not creep up to the two, rather allowing himself to be seen as he approached the last span of the journey. Tamlin's facial expression hadn't changed since before, and was still cast in its icy mold. His tail, however, was now held over his back, the typical gesture of authority coming easily for him.

His lyrics held a trademark lilting cadence as he spoke, his voice polite. “Please forgive my tardiness – I meant you no discourtesy. May I inquire as to what business warriors of Saw Tooth have with Bright Moon?”

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