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: 12.231.36.2
Posted on September 8, 2013 at 03:22:43 PM by Enigma
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He listens patiently while I talk, his beautiful heart breaking face not giving anything away. I don't know if he feels disgust toward my weakness or if he admires it, though I guess the fact that he's still here, still lying next to me, is a clue that I haven't completely run him off with my tear. I want to wrap myself up in him, burrow into his fur and never come out again, just be surrounded by him. He makes me strong and weak all at once, leaves me breathless and yet gives me the air to breathe, to survive. I don't know where I'd be without him. Probably another cold emotionless killer for Kershov to weild like a weapon. I don't know anything about Marx's background and maybe my question is that one little glimpse I've been aching to have. One little clue as to how his training was, his puphood. I can tell instantly that this question has more than one simple answer. He blinks a few times as if trying to make up his mind on what angle he wants to take. Interesting. I tilt my head some, watching him patiently. Finally he starts telling me about his guardian, the alpha before Sidorio. He tells me how vigilant this wolf was in his training and I know that he must have taught Marx his unfathomable discipline, how he can remain still as a statue even under the most dire of circumstances. He taught Marx to be a hero, like he was the day of the flood. I shudder at the memory of watching him that day, walking on the edges of death's door as he tried with everything he had to save his pack. I have Krutch to thank for that. His voice trails off but I don't mind. I continue watching his face, enjoying watching the mysterious smoothness of it give way with little twitches of emotion, both good and bad. I could watch him forever. Suddenly he blinks though and his control is back as he apologizes. He talks about other wolves, his mother among them, that taught him also but he has only hatred for them. My lips tighten at the thought of anyone wanting to use him. It's enough to make me want to carve my name in their throats. I see something in his eyes, a flicker of something feral and wild, but in a flash, it's gone and I'm lost again to the sensation as his jaw runs down my sensitive spine. I come apart beneath him, reveling in his touch, his closeness, as a soft moan of pleasure escapes me. Suddenly he talks, telling me its my turn and my eyes snap back open to reality as I try to regain my mindset for talking. He makes me feel more of my body than anything. I try to push away the waves of pleasure still roiling through me as my lips tug toward a little smirk. Let's get away from some of this mushy stuff and into the better part. "Dare." I whisper seductively. |
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