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: 72.201.103.35
Posted on September 18, 2013 at 06:41:18 AM by i v e v
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The woods were casting longer and longer tendrils of ice upon the earth as the planet I stood on spun; seemingly balanced by a thin thread unto space. As a meager creature, I had no way to fathom the solar system or even Earth's revolutions. All I could percieve was the turn of day into night, winter into summer. We lived in the moment. There had never been a strive to comprehend and tame the future for us. So, every little pawprint I left in the grass was one of a fleeting, quick flash into the past as my grayed orbs soaked in the present. My thoughts were drifting, mostly from my current position between the trees and on my surroundings to the previous events. My nostrils betrayed the fact that Moth's little family had left the confinement of Enigma's den and walked in a single file line from Abendrot territory. The hint of fear permeated from the new mother as she padded away, occasionally glancing back over her shoulder into the hollow of our territory. I had trailed them for some time; until they came within scenting distance of the border. My white cloak stuck to the darker, more thick vegetations as my gaze followed their furry backs. I had been wrapped in my own thoughts, mostly of my own brood. Somewhere, they were starting fresh and new lives. One could only imagine how vastly different their upbringing would be from my own. And I was glad. It was something I never wished on any wolf. Due to my proximity of the territory line, I had been spending my lonely time investigating the coming and goings of the others. I had stumbled onto two perfumes, ingrained into a pair of tracks. They seemingly had blundered through the undergrowth, and broken twigs lay askew on the ground. There was no hesitation as they fled over the border. I recognized the male immediately- I had the fortune of gazing upon him after a rather tough tumble with the king. Vladya..? I think. Perhaps he had enough of the life as a punching bag. My mind was processing this new information slowly, surely, in a calculating fashion. I knew that.. this might be the moment of renewal for me. After all, I had proven to be quite inutile; at least in my mind anyways. My sensories knew the location of the sovereign, and he was holding court. Yes. It was now, or never. I recognized some of the wolves surrounding the prostrated, massive white beast. Fat droplets of rain were leaking through the canopy more clearly, drenching such soldiers as Aerten, and Marx. The third I didn't heed as an older addition to the pack. New. I hadn't caught any snippets of their conversation, but it was most likely on the subject of Vladya and his disloyalty. During this prodding with my eyes, I had kept their reflective surfaces at an abjected stare, low and trained on the ground. What I was about to preform was nothing, verbally at least, on the topic of Vladya. Superimposed implications and observations would be necessary, as the role I could be subjecting myself to was one that allowed for the diffusion of tension. Gradually, my frame slid placidly forward, my banner twitching complacently at my haunches. It was tucked underwards, along with the smoothing of my ivory audits against my skull. It was hard, but I kept my lamps downcast and torpidly gazing on the drenched dirt. My movements were not idle but deliberately slow, before I slumped proddingly down, as if I was trying to sink my entire soul back into the roots. The whole act was not intended to usurp Kershov's topic of the meeting, but an unspoken apology. In fact, it was an open and final descision for all of the misintendend actions I had done. The whole charade could be interpreted in a thousand ways, and as a complacent paw tenderly stretched outwards, I was open to all of them. Please don't be angry. Ooc: What can I say, I love The Smiths. xD ❄ i v e v ❆ |
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