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

WARNING: HAPPINESS IS CONTAGIOUS.
IP: 142.167.227.58

ooc: trying to jump start my muse.
HA
What muse?
Post please?
<3
:)

Seoras' limbs felt light as he pranced towards the border of Bright Moon. The young teen had recently endured a period in which grumpiness had plagued his mood. Because of his recent phase he had spent many days in isolation. As with most adolescent mindsets, he was able to pull himself away from the dark side and into the light without too much trouble. Now as he skipped towards his home, he looked forward to reconnecting with his friends. The teen was unsure as to whom he would find in the lands but was happy with whoever would play with him. He was experiencing severe withdrawal symptoms following his significant period without companionship. The border held the scent of new joiners and old timers alike. Both were exciting and happy aromas. The varg crossed the invisible line to come to a common, perfectly normal looking clearing. He lay down, dopily tired from his journey in the hot sun.

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