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: 203.100.223.103
Posted on March 8, 2014 at 02:17:29 AM by Scarlet Nights
The scarlet czar had been pacing, a trait uncommon to her, she had worn a line in the grass, then the dirt, then the muddy slush it became with the light trickle of misted rain that came down upon her. Thick robes wicked the moisture off her coat, returning some shine to the dull coat, all her energy had been going into healing and that was why King Kershov had taken this round of delicacies for himself. All she knew was that the challenger was a ess and most likely so far up her own ass that you couldn’t tell where she started and finished. Scarlet grinned through the rain and scented her bacon bringer was close. She stayed within her location, sensing him coming nearer with each paw step. Finally the rains parted and she got her first real look at their returned alpha…and he was a damn sight mess.
…and I am glad of your return, my love.
He looked at her, one orb fierce and filled with an electric light like it always was and its neighbor, one dark, empty socket, also stared at her. She felt something at the sight of his lost vision, but she wasn’t exactly sure what it was. Fear? Fear that he was less of a wolf, an easier target, and a martyr for his pack like so many others she knew? Anger? Anger for the ess that had caused this- of course, she hoped the bitch was missing a crucial vein and bleeding to death in the mud while vultures squabbled over her lifeless frame….or Love? Love that she felt due to his dedication, devotion and loyalty to his pack. He had fought, like she had, and paid many a price- but this seemed too dear a price tag for his country. Nights knew what she wanted- revenge, sweet, cold, bloody revenge. She couldn’t help the fact that he was bent- but she could make sure that bitch never set another paw down again. ..and so my devotion falters…I cannot make Abendrot anything but, my priority.
She stepped to him, facing his wounds, broken bones and gave a devilish smile. The same smile that had started this whole game in action. She circled him closely, her touch brushing his peripherals and then closing in to press against that expansive ice carved chest. Her maw buried itself in his neck ruffles, giving a sweet sigh of relief, as if he were her hit of a drug she knew she could never give up. Her eyes stared forward, vacant as she thought, silent and cold. They were of wolves of many words, but rather the types to simply enjoy a bit of company after each other’s absences. Scarlet’s tongue eventually wandered to his wounds, although it did not deny his kissers their power. She cleaned his wounds, but also nibbled his ears, bit his neck and ran her jaw line, now almost healed, down his muscular back, trying to soothe the one demon inside he could not control and perhaps wake another of…a different persuasion. She decided that now was perhaps an excellent time to bring up the topic of small little Kershov’s running around, but she had other ace’s up her sleeve. After his wounds were cleansed and he was in no danger of infection any time soon, she spoke up, her lyrics quiet, and determined.
I think my dear, we need to talk about a few things, expansion for one.
She grinned, looking up, still pressed into his chest, listening to his rock solid heart beat. Her new favorite sound, it seemed.
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