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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&& if only i had wings
IP: 12.231.36.2


I watch the greedy expression in Kershov's eyes as the wolves come before him and I can see his love of fear so evident on the shadows on his lips hinting at a smirk. It disgusts me really, this show of power that he calls domination. I call it cowardice. Hiding behind a mask of non-emotion, reeking your havoc on others simply because you can and raising an army to fight the fights for you so you can look good on your throne. If my pack wolves weren't in danger just being here, I would have already spit in his face. As it were, his every word has me inkling to take him on one on one. At Channing's polite greeting, he gives a waspish reply that has my hackles itching to rise in defiance. He surprises me by telling Channing to spread the word of his letting her stay though, causing momentary puzzlement in my gaze. Why would he want others to know of this? I thought he would want that deadly reputation. Such a confusing creature.

He turns his attention to Henadin next, obliging him of his actions in Saw Tooth. Such a thing is almost forgiving but I doubt that's in Kershov's vocabulary. I'm always on guard, my muscles never unfrozen. When I arrive, he dips his head, black gaze finding my own and I make sure to keep contact with them, not wanting to fall under his opinion that Saw Tooth's leader is spineless and scared. He seems displeased when I mention a debt, though I figured that's why he called us here in the first place. To settle this debt. He looks to Henadin, asking if we believe him to be a slave driver, someone to be bought at the right price. My lips tighten. Does he now know that's what EVERYONE thinks of him? Saw Tooth is not the only pack fueled into anger by his past actions. He brings up a price next, though he chooses to call it a proposition instead. I'm not fooled by the play on words. A proposition can be refused. I am aware that we are on his land, surrounded and outnumbered by his pack. I am not so petty as to think I can refuse much until my pack is safe.

He sits before us before drawing his gaze to my own, making his explanation clear. I inhale sharply, one ear flicking toward Channing and Henadin. Abendrot wants to raise one of their pups. How could he think to separate a newborn from their mother so soon? To separate a family at all is unthinkable. I would have sooner ripped his throat out than offer him any of my own brood. He lets nothing show but I remember how he didn't offer hospitality to the pups, as if on purpose. He might forfeit their lives if he is refused. Bastard. I wait for him to finish, listening with tight lips as he says that he will only take the pup when it is old enough and that it will be treated with equal value as his own soldiers. And we are to go on nothing more than his word? He is brutal in nature, that much is already obvious. What hardships will this pup have to endure as a consequence? He wants us to trust him to raise this pup, to trust that it will be good for both packs. I fail to see this point. A friendly release would have been good for the packs. Mutual trust that in such situations, the other pack can be counted on to do their part as neighbors. Instead we get this...proposal. He may call it that all he wants. I still only see a price set on the litter's heads.

He even adds in that Channing and Henadin can choose which pup will be theirs. My shoulders roll in disappoval, my eyes a cold hard shell, my shield against telling him exactly what I think about this whole thing. I turn my eyes on Henadin at some point and am rewarded with a smile, something I've never seen on his lips save for Channing. I consider myself honored. Of course the whole mood changes once Kershov has spoken. Henadin instantly goes to comforting Channing, asking Kershov if the pup will know its true parents. I do not envy them in this pain, my heart going out to them as I stand by frozen. He tells Channing that they must accept, though I can hear his own pain and anger seeping through some of the words. He knows that lives are in danger if he refuses.

Channing does not move at first, her features a blank slate and I have to stifle the silent whine in my throat to see such utter defeat. She finally looks to everyone present before adressing Kershov, agreeing to his proposal before turning to Henadin for comfort. I step forward now, meeting Kershov's gaze once more.

"If this is a proposal, then it should be mutual. You have something of ours so we need something of yours. I know of your new litter in Malignant Felicity. Will you surrender a child of your own to Saw Tooth to seal this deal?"

My voice is cold enough to match his own, my eyes ever accusing. I don't have to play the cards of liking him and what he's asking anymore than I have to shine his boots and kiss his paws. He's getting what he wants so to turn on me now for my show of dislike toward him would only mar his attempts to strengthen the bonds. I've been queen long enough to know about politics and he's playing a dirty hand. Well I'm ready to show my aces now. Is he willing to let a child of his own go to a strange new pack? They're already separated from him now so no big hurt there, not like the pain Channing and Henadin are going through just inches from me. Maybe they're even strangers to him. Even so, these are my terms. Now to see how well he knows his own politics.




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