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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Rage was boiling inside of me. It so often did when Kershov was near. He had that affect on me. It was taking all of my dwindling willpower to keep from exploding. Would I love to lunge forward and attack the ice king? Well, of course I would. Would it get me killed? Surely as the sun rises. And I suppose I'm not ready to die, though sometimes I'd like to. Most of the time, really. But do I just want to be another body on Abendrot's boarders? The answer is no.

He may have crushed me, totally torn me down. But Kershov would not have the satisfaction of ending my life. At least, not by my prompting. Who knows, maybe I'll lose my shit again and I'll do something stupid like attack him again. Whatcha gonna do, right? Peering into his deep black pools, something seemed off. Then again, something always seemed off with Kershov to me. We had totally different mentalities. Either way, I relished in the thought of him slipping even in the slightest. I easily ignored his words. It wasn't hard to block them out, anymore. You got used to his constant vocal torture. You never did get used to the physical torture, though.

I barely even flinched when his daggers came crashing together just in front of my face. I tossed my head, letting a low rumble emerge from my chest as I responded with my own clashing of teeth. It wasn't a gesture of fear, or a challenge. It just was. I stayed still as he began to circle me. At first. My banner honest-to-god nearly rose to it's old third-in-command position before I remembered myself. I stepped forward, circling the space where I had just been with Kershov, eyes always on him. "I'm tired of this, Kershov. This senseless circling." My tone made it clear that I meant not only the literal circling but also the metaphorical. "I want a change already. Why am I still here?" There was a growl in my voice but it wasn't a foolish attempt at ferocity. That's simply how I had naturally come to address the pale dragon. Just as I had addressed Tamlin with grace. My tail flicked restlessly at the air, as if swatting at an imaginary fly. I stopped my circling just when Ker did, carefully facing him.


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