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?"

Refresh/Reload

“The best weapon against an enemy is another enemy.”
IP: 209.6.242.74

Spektrum was stalking along the edge of the Bright Moon pack. He had no clue why he was doing such a thing at this hour. He should be in his den at Staircase Falls, curled up in a furry ball, sound asleep. But no, Scar Face was not asleep at the time for some unfathomable reason. He looked up at the moon, a glowing white orb against a black background. He inhaled. Sh¡t! I'm near Bright Moon. Snarling slightly, Spektrum stalked along the border. He inhaled again and smiled, a malice glint shining in his eyes. Not only did the sweet scent of injury hung around the air, but so did that of an Abendrot wolf. A femme?

Spektrum carefully picked his way through a thistle bush and leaned over the seemingly glowing ivory mistress laying unconsious on the ground. He blinked angrily, as if trying to keep a bug of of his eyes. Her pelt was similar to a certain fae named Zilo, who had become his enemy and who's mate had kicked his @ss in a recent battle. Spektrum's leg just hurt thinking about it.

Which made him wonder while standing over a concussed vixen why he was wandering, aimless, in the middle of the night with a wounded piston. He grinned his teeth at his own lack of common sense and turned to leave. A subconcious whimper from the lady reached his auds, and Spektrum suddenly felt guilty, leaving her helpless like this. He sniffed very very deeply now, almost as if he was trying to catch the last oxygen atom on Earth. Hmph. There's another male around here, he'll probably come back to help her, Spektrum clicked his tongue impatiently and turned to help the fae. Guilt felt odd to Spektrum. He was used to hurting others, not helping them. He growled at himself. Why was he acting so sappy and like a sissy? Well, maybe it was because he knew that while most concussions are a temporary disturbance that don't leave lasting damage, they can lead to serious problems if not treated promptly and effectively. Or that the lupa could be permanently injured in a severe way. Stupid wolves and their problems. He mused and sighed at how pathetic he was.

Spektrum searched the unconscious fae's bodice for any outside injuries. Luckily (or was it unluckily?) there weren't many. Spektrum made sure not to let the fae leave his sight whilst he gathered medications. Spektrum licked her head to keep it cool and treated her injuries with cobwebs and chewed up some roots to keep the wounds from getting infected. He made sure to keep her as still as possible. There's nothing more i can do now. Her fate lays in the paws of the stars now.

OOC: RRRRGH. Crappy post.

Replies:


Post a reply:
Name:
Email:
Subject:
Message:
Password To Edit Post:




Create Your Own Free Message Board or Free Forum!
Hosted By Boards2Go Copyright © 2020


<-- -->