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...?

Refresh/Reload

only hate the road when your missing home
IP: 124.197.36.252





The new scent had been in Abendrot for some time already. Not more than a week ago had she been accepted and Marx was finished with the border for the day. It was time to see what form Kershov’s latest bite of outside would take in their military. Would she come under Marx’s command in the soldier faction or perhaps be tutored as their newest assassin? Or perhaps she wasn’t for killing and preferred to heal…or spy? In Marx’s eyes, a wolf that couldn’t kill was a dead wolf- eventually. They might get lucky for a few years, but sooner or later the laws of nature found their way to your door. They seemed to like Marx’s door so much, that he often felt the need to leave it wide open and take risks every day. The prime solider was in peak condition, having hunted, rested with Enigma for what seemed like almost a whole day and night and had completely healed of his injuries heeded in the flash food.

Most wolves would laugh at the thought of being injured by tree’s.

He pondered as he tracked the maiden to her tranquil little corner of Abendrot. It was close to the heart of the pack and she had evidently explored a little and settled in this area for more than a day. He stalked along quietly, a shadow amongst many dark shapes, moving and breathing with the wind. Finally he spotted her, noting her eyes. They were a very light, very feminine and crystal clear compared to his boulder tone orbs. He slipped from his cover as silently as the cloud covering the sun, producing a small, tedious smile to show her he meant no harm. He eagerly approached the vixen and sat down near two metres from her, not wanting to encroach on her personal space.

Mind if I take a seat? I’m tired of border patrol and you’ve picked one of my favorite spots to rest.

Whether or not she accepted, he sat. If she was the type to rebel against authority, better to put her in her place sooner, rather than later.

I'm Marx, by the way.

To say Marx knew Abendrot’s terra like the back of his paw was an understatement. He knew more than its topography. Marx could tell you where the fruiting bushes and trees were in spring, summer and autumn, where the best shelter was located depending on the prevailing wind and where the best place was to have a soak in a sun drenched pool along the northern border. He canvassed her body with his eyes in a single glance, not undressing her with his eyes as he would Enigma, but simply noting important things like muscle tone or scars and injuries. His banner remained at half mast, indicating his rank of Gamma, although his position was more than a simple Gamma. He was head of the soldier faction, having impressed Kershov with rising from the rank of underlie prisoner to Head Commander.

If you ever need anything, feel free to ask. Your one of us now, so if you have any questions about the different factions or who runs what, I’m happy to help.

His tone was very matter-of-fact, but not harsh or cold, simply just direct. He wanted her to know he was here to help, just as he always was for his pack mates.


M A R X
High Commander of the Abendrot Soldiers


html/picture made by Paper



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


<-- -->