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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Run, If You Intend To Survive
IP: 125.238.90.203

 photo PixleEclipse_zpsd35a6436.jpg

The femme fatale had been drifting around silently after her acceptance, mulling over everything in her head. It had not been that long ago she'd been welcomed by Kershov, but she was already determined to prove her worth. However, the territory had been fairly quite lately as far as she'd seen, so she made a point of staying out of the way until time came when she could be useful. There was no point in getting in the way of the others, and her position was still being decided upon, though she was eternally grateful of Kershov's judgement that she was no healer.

A storm had been brewing; she'd taste it on the wind, and sure enough it had struck with a nasty temper, pouring down upon the land. Not a good sign. Lean russet stilts had raced through, with no hesitation as she flew through mud, and over any fallen obstacles in her way. A howl sounded out near the heart of their lands, and she speed towards it, not allowing anything at all to detour her. Aerten had arrived to catch the end of the gray and white femme's instructions before she darted off.

Her hues had landed on the brute left behind, the plan already clear in her mind. "You heard her," She shouted over the noise to him, her face the blank stoic mask it always was. "We've got some work to do!" And like that, she had begun digging where the other had suggested, paws flinging away the sodden ground easily. Aerten was completely concentrated on her task, only to aware that they'd have to be fast or the waters would gain on them before the trench could do any good. Luckily for the femme, she was well-muscled, so the task wasn't too physically straining, even though she was already soaked to the bone.

They couldn't allow any pack mates to drown, and that alone pushed Aerten on as she hoped dearly that more would arrive soon. They had to do what they had to do however. It was just one of those days where she was happy she could swim. Not that it would do much help in those currents.


||Aerten||Abentrot||Mateless||Pupless||Adult||PixieEclipse||



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