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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Watch Me Come Undone
IP: 12.231.36.2


The Saw Tooth female is practically bathed in fear as she looks at Kershov and Marx. Lucky for her, I'm here to save the day...kind of. She seems grateful for a female presence, turning her head back to thank Kershov and Marx before following in my wake. I try to keep my pace slow, something she can keep up with in her present state though even then, she seems like she's struggling to keep up. My brows pull together. She must be pretty far along then, either that, or on the brink of labor. This doesn't set well with me. I haven't been around a pregnant wolf since my first and last child birthing in the tundra. I may block out much from that time but I'll never forget the pain of labor. Finally we come within view of my den. Channing seems anxious about something other than the fact that she's in a strange new pack and she doesn't know what's going to happen to her and her children. I think about asking but I shut my mouth. Nah, it's none of my business. Shrugging it off, I keep walking. Soon enough, we reach the entrance and I stop to let her go in first. She stops at the den mouth to ask permission and I give it with a silent nod of my head. I can see she was going to wait either way and it doesn't look very comfortable to be standing for her right now. I watch silently as she moves to the back of the den and lies down but as suddenly as she gets comfortable and I think she's about to fall asleep, she suddenly looks up, horror etched across her face. She's in labor. My eyes narrow some as I watch her body ripple and dance in contractions as they grow in size and frequency. She looks to be in a lot of pain and I sit down, helpless to do anything since I know nothing about herbs or such. I'm a fighter, not a healer. I'm mezmerized by the sight though. I watch as she starts pushing. A few hours go by before the first puppy arrives, a beautiful little girl. Channing cleans her dutifully and places her at her stomach to suckle. The puppy is greedy and strong as she latches on, getting her fill before she curls up at her mother's side and goes to sleep. I realize now that I'm gritting my fangs, biting into my lips as I watch. This brings back so many memories, both good and bad. I remember I loved being a mother, even if it was for less than a week. I lost every single one within seven days. They couldn't beat the cold and neither could I. I stop the whine that's climbing up my throat, shutting it off with a soft growl, ashamed of my momentary weakness. I blame it on this female taking over my den for the time being. Ears flattening to my skull, I flick my tail and turn my back to the den, looking out over the pack lands as I try not to think about the tang of blood assaulting my nostrils. There's nothing I can do for her. She'll just have to push through it.



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