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...?
IP: 154.5.63.177
Posted on August 14, 2013 at 05:50:56 PM by Menacey
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The pain that damaged the ebony creature’s gait had long since become a dull throb in a hazy background. Encumbered by the wound to his left hind leg, the brute’s stride was eerily jarring and unnatural amongst the thick, still fog. The lupe snarled quietly in frustration. His huge form was made for power and movement without fault; this crippling fracture was a frustrating hindrance. Despite the heavy clouds that seeped through the wood, the wolf’s inky fur could be distinguished quite easily – a fact that would concern the towering canine less if he was without his limp. Infatuated with the shivering white mass, the dark forest lent itself to a land of ghosts. The bitter stranger welcomed the cool mist as it licked and settled over the torn flesh on his hock and flank. For, even though the sharp sears had ravaged the creature’s leg with increasing depth and discomfort, the amber eyed soldier had marched on. Concerned not with the ache, what warred him most was the feeling of waste. Gradually, over the length of his relentless trek, ribs had begun to show and the fitness such a demon had been known for began to wane into an exhausted battle against the inevitable. However, the irritation that threatened to burst from his wide chest spanned over more than just an inability. The beast’s dark amber gaze was trained ahead, his nose flaring; withal, his attempt was futile. The trail the fiend blazed had faded out days ago; yet, the dark spirit had ruthlessly pursued the failing scent, oblivious to the gradual disappearance of each and every one of the warriors behind him. To stop would be to lose. That was not an option. As if the demon had been programmed to his duty, he refused to forgo the chase. At times, when a trace of pungent musk drifted through the massive figure’s nostrils into his skull, the aggravating injury spurred the hunter on. Brave to the point of recklessness was an identity the obsidian had revealed rather than grown into. His furious stare seldom lightened and, driven by a deep desire, the somber fighter was comfortable amongst terrors. Foolish he was not; though he knew his attempt was in vain, it was in his DNA to keep going. To the outsider it might seem that the onyx traveler was quite consumed by a long lost mission, consumed enough that signs of life would pass him by – an ignorant mistake. Consequently, when the beast halted suddenly the mood of his scene changed dramatically. Where as a moment ago the feral animal had moved incessantly forward, now he held his head high, eyes narrowed. Determined the beast was to catch his trail, when an unknown scent - yet familiar in nature – rushed past his sensors the obsidian focus all awareness to his environment. Packlands was the first unwelcome thought to plague the fatale. Peering through the ghostly forest as far as he could, the huge wolf determined that though he had not crossed their boundary, a step further would bring on a whole new eye of challenges. Unease was easily avoided by the dark form; he feared neither pain nor death but the prospect of abandoning his task further riled the imposing animal. Briefly, a guttural sound ripped through the dead air. The beast’s snarl seemed to make the very fog shiver with dread, unnatural sound that it was. Shaking his heavy head in anger at his own state, it was quick to the obsidian’s thoughts that he was in no good shape to skive around the pack territory and hence, they had probably already noted his presence. Reluctant to pay goodbye to a long set etiquette, spread claws held the formidable marine still and neither did he run nor proceed. The gouges on the trees before the canine shocked him little. Emerging from the far north, the starless male was accustomed to a life of ferocity and rigid discipline. This, he hazarded a guess at, was held somewhere in the lines of this pack's ideal. Banner held low and neutral, agitation prickling through his coal black coat, Menacey forced weight onto his throbbing hind pillar, allowing the pain to appease the shaking anger which slate covered canine worked to control. Then, russet orbs cutting through the ghost lands, he waited. |
Replies:
- FROZEN MASS GRAVE - By KERSHOV August 20, 2013 at 03:51:06 PM
And then you find yourself in P.E.R.I.L. - By Menacy August 25, 2013 at 06:42:58 PM
FROZEN MASS GRAVE - By KERSHOV September 3, 2013 at 01:46:30 AM
And then you find yourself in P.E.R.I.L. - By Menacey September 11, 2013 at 04:41:05 AM