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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IP: 184.76.44.131




Glacial orbs flicked to the demon kings tail, it did the slightest of movement. Then his voice

formed into words that slithered into my audits. 'Pleasure to meet you properly, Madame

Hestia. I'm sure Marx hasn't had a soldier quite as lovely as you for some time.' As I spoke

he took in every word. He didn't show it with mere head nods, but his gaze never broke. Not

once and a grin tugged at his face. The scarred tissue pulled tightly, I myself couldn't help

watching this interesting demon. 'What a speech,' an audible vibration in his chest turned to

a chuckle. 'I do not doubt the advantages you will surely seize for this pack with those pretty

teeth of yours.'


To this bit I gave my own tail gesture. One swaying movement and then it was immediately

stopped. Again my voice formed words that spun into silk, but hinted with a bit of irritation.

No sire Scarlet Nights is lovely she is like a night shade. Beautiful, yet

deadly, I am nothing, but a chess piece. Nothing more, nothing less. Unless my superiors

deem a different place for my walking corpse.
I gave a smile and my irritation

disintegrated from my lyrics. But, yes, sire it is a pleasure finally

meeting the set pair who runs this thriving pack. Please sire, these teeth of mine are for

being stained and tainted. Them being pretty... Looks like I need to sink them into more

things.
Kind words always gave me a negative, gut turning, feeling. The only time

compliments were really supposed to happen was when I was luring stupid males. Trapping

them in my coils and infecting them with my poisons. Making them my little puppets and

getting juicy bits of information that would be valuable in the future; then I'd simply kill them

or leave them broken hearted when done with them. Many scents of the males I've killed

were forever intermingled in my pelt, as if they were trying to permanently haunt me. I took

pride in it actually, every move I made, every single choice decided, for me always had it's

purpose.


Then he turned his attention to the young child I have taken interest in. 'Ah, all alone in the

world, hm?' Kersov's paw moved toward the young girls head, I watched, but said nothing.

Pivoting my crimson dipped ears to his voice as he spoke once more. 'We can teach you

everything you'll ever need to know. You just have to stay in line.' Quickly I turned back to

the sire and my voice came out firmly, but still the utmost respect was melded in.

Sire, with all due respect. I wouldn't bring an orphan under my wing if I my

self didn't see potential. Especially to a pack who deserves nothing more than the best.


I looked at her with cold seriousness and then back to the king.

I wouldn't waist my time on weaklings. Nor will I ever.
I dipped my head

again for a pardon, but accidentally spoke in my native tongue.

Synchórisi agéneia epivítora mou.




Translation:

Pardon my rudeness sire.

Find Me

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Hestia::Adult::Vixen::Chained by None::Time consumed by Fran-Bo:: Warrior of Abendrot::Destinee



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