INFERNO - " />

At one point in time, Misty Mountain stood opposite of Rainbow Cliff, and these rose to the sky as the only peaks in Blossom Forest. Since the magical change of the land, an entire chain of peaks rose from the bowels of the earth to become the Culter Unlaeddod - the Teeth of the Gods. Misty Mountain is still of the peaks, but many others exist as well. They run from north to south, from east to west. Atop some of the peaks, snow covers them year round, making the paths slippery and hazardous. Others are lower in altitude and are extremely humid, covered in thick, dense forests with mists swirling between each of the trunks. Others still are bare - naked boulders rising and falling haphazardly.

These chains of peaks do connect many of the packs, and they hold many things to explore - forbidden forests, deep and mysterious caves, beautiful scenic cliffs. However, one must have care - if you fall, it is a long, long, long way down...

Due to the varying terrains, many prey options are available. For those scared of injury, you may find ptarmigans, ravens, crows, squirrels, dormice, or rabbits. The adults hunting alone can find mountain goats... but for those hunting in a pack, there are elk, moose, and Bighorn Sheep.




There was only one thing that had kept Pyreo’s smouldering sights off of Abendrot. You see, he was waiting for something. Yes, waiting. Just the thought of it was against the rules of his nature; every second stretched on, silence wasn’t silence but the grating of claws against granite. This King was carving away his patience with his dangerous “invisibility”. But no matter, Pyreo wasn’t mistaken - wouldn’t be mistaken. Why? Here’s why.

A short moon’s walk ago, he’d had the lucky pleasure of straying across one too many rumours. They hadn’t come from word of mouth, rather they had been whispers woven into the curiously serrated bark of trees. Somebody had been busy - breeding an army. Two, very simple concepts had begun festering in the dark of Py’s iron mind. First, it PISSED him off, set his nerves zapping and firing. What insidious idiot was playing with fire? Who was fucking up so bad in setting dry grass aflame? It was an instantaneous habit; within moments the icy dragon mused through the various methods to deal with yet another blaze. It was important that the devil’s infection didn’t spread. But even in a titanous fury, reason was just another tool within reach. There was a certain musk to the place - at the time, black lips had pulled back in a wretched smile because the musk was integrated into the very air. No chaos, a powerful borderline… someone had been busy indeed. This was what the ivory beast had taken to the snowy slopes for - he required an audience with the King.

Come out, come out, wherever you are. The treacherous Czar would come. After all, Pyreo had smeared the ground with the blood of the so called queen, shoved her pride up her ass, shredded her tail, nearly dismembered her hip and given her crown a complimentary decoration. In gut-wrenching abruptness, a vicious snarl shredded the silvery quiet, spraying the snow with minuscule scarlet crystals (nasty habit, the chewing out of one’s own mouth). He could almost still smell her blood; like a shark scenting an open wound, he couldn’t disentangle his mind from the perturbing notion that she’d robed him of her own end. Not that he lusted to see her life slip from those barren eyes - no, but unfinished business was a bitch.

He would come. Kershov, that was what they called him. Well, if he had any decency, the cur would show his vulgar face sooner than later - come to weed out another pest… a deep thrumming chuckle threaded itself out of the titanic carnivore… yes, just another fly on the border; come and swat me away, why don’t you. It wouldn’t take long, all Py wanted to know was if the elusive royal showed potential to have cultivated something worth salvaging - that’s all.

Too quiet… even the rustling of small mammals had ceased. Slowly, lids raised themselves to unveil nightmarish holes where eyes should be. With slow and relaxed motions, Py swivelled his tall body, for finally the waiting was done.

Ah, snow rabbit, but the words didn’t come and nor did the charismatic smile. The King’s eyes bore into his own as if they thought - and thought wrong - that this might intimidate Pyreo. With a tremulous roar, the beast catapults himself at his counterpart. Deep inside Py’s chest there is a heart… but it doesn’t quicken, nor stutter. A heartbeat knocks away, far from what one might consider a sign of life - thrum… thrum… thrum… buried in a cave of stone it marks a rhythm of eternal time, pumping blue blood through iron carved veins and promising nothing less then sharpened steel.

Finding register in the sticky snow, Py glowers, unimpressed. I don’t like to be kept waiting. Then, inexplicably, lips peel apart from laughter - more blood on snow - and icy demon upon pallid beast reach gun point. Snow spills away from Pyreo as his tall figure lunges towards the incoming wolf - the movement throws the two into limbo as Py twists with the King’s motion, voiding his momentum.

In an instant, the gleeful expression extinguishes itself to be replaced with something near indifference - You have yet to surprise me - don’t start now, they call you Kershov… yes? I would be horribly embarrassed to get it wrong - after all you've got an interesting reputation

Pyreo .:. Dragon .:. No ties .:. No heritage .:. Soare


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