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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Ricochet, you take your aim..

Angry did not even begin to describe how Marx felt, furious got closer to what he felt and had shown to the single solider that had turned up quickly to his call. Marx the gentleman, Marx the cool, calm, collected wolf. He was gone. Far away. For now. Marx wanted head to rolls, jugulars sliced and blood on the ground. He galloped through the bush looking for his soldiers; he would not call twice for them. They got one chance and only his faithful Autumn had showed. He was now ranked at the highest point on Marx’s list of respect for his underlings. He had considered asking Ker to promote him, but he hadn’t really earned anything by simply doing what was expected, still, if he kept it up- he’d be next in line.

Without realizing it, Marx had followed a scent very familiar to him; the lovely Enigma was alone and oh my, sounded bored. Marx didn’t hesitate like he usually would have; he didn’t stop to think about the complications, the tension, the mistakes and the past. Most of all, the past, it was a present concern for him always, not knowing truly who he was until some time ago and now there always seemed to be something missing, something not quite right about Abendrot. The feeling had left as he had left Abendrot all those months ago and even though everything about Abendrot had changed, this one feeling was the only thing Marx missed. He crashed abruptly through the flora and came out into a little clearing where Enigma sat looking bored. He usually would comically quip at her about her current situation, but he didn’t seem to have words anymore, just actions. His features were no longer cold or angry, for once his eyes stared at her like she was something he didn’t quite believe in.

He paced right up to her, mere inches separating them, assuming she didn’t move, her hot breath would be clouding his face with its sweet scent. He hardly moved, hardly breathed, just let his cold grey eyes examine every inch of her before a few words finally dripped from his lips in an almost different voice to his usual smoky, confident lyrics. The voice that came forth was his, no doubt, but it was hushed, so quiet you had to be listening carefully to understand it and it was full of lust and want. His eyes finally met hers as his words ended and he was either radically excited or terrified- he couldn’t the two part anymore.

Your so beautiful, Enigma. I should have told you that long ago.

Fire away, Fire away....





M A R X
High Commander of the Soldiers of Abendrot


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