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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Onyx and sliver robes rippled over steely bands of flesh as he loped through his homeland. Abendrot was his home and she was like the mother he always longed for and never had. Kershov understood his loyalty to the land itself- he would not allow a single wolf to taint it, ever. A new scent had him headed to the small clearing long before one of his Captains’ called him forth. No longer than a minute passed before he melted out of the foliage and looked at their newest spec. A single glance told him what was needed. His eyes roamed over the new Captain- Grey Wind and Marx gave him a decided nod, his form of praise for a job well done…or was it?

Name your charge, Captain. Tell me of his training.

The new captain would not doubt name his charge, but be slightly confused as to why Marx thought he knew about his training, it was highly unlikely it came up on their brief few words in front of Scarlet Nights…they were probably to busy enjoying the pure sight of her. Hah. Pure. Marx felt in a good mood this morning, so decided to give his Captain and this newcomer, named Sebastian, the answer.

The correct answer is none. You’ve not been trained by Abendrot, by me, so your training up until this point means nothing.

Marx was creative with how he trained his soldiers and liked to keep them on their toes, the next raid or intruder could be any moment away and he felt Grey Wind needed an outlet somewhere for all the raw power. He sat his rump and a sigh ran off his chest, his eyes flickered to Grey Wind. The captain showed promise, but was still untested in his eyes, what a perfect surprise for him. He’d need the experience on training recruits anyway- that was his job, to train. Marx would perfect them, drill them and work them into the ground to make sure they were nothing but loyal, obedient guardians that would rip the life out of someone or something at the instant he commanded it.

Captain, in the interest of showing me your talents, I’ll leave this to you. Test him, but don’t kill him.

In case the Captain didn’t understand, he looked to Sebastian and beckoned towards the Captain.

You want a place in our pack- show me what you can do. Nothing dirty, just a good clean…

He paused and then struck the earth in front of him as if ringing the battle gong.

…fight.




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