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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Watch Me Come Undone Kershov/Open
IP: 12.231.36.2


And here I am on the outskirts of the place I used to call home. There was never any other place that could hold me captive for long. I've haunted this place longer than I can remember. I've thought about it every day of my absence. Thoughts of Marx and Kershov torture my existance and I knew that turning back was my only option. I thought I could make it alone in the tundra again. I thought it was what I deserved. Man, how wrong I was.

The pack lands don't seem to have changed a bit. I'm sure Kershov will have been smart enough to have someone take over my spot not too long after my existance. My body shudders with rage when I think bac to how I had overheard him offering it to another wolf, a female who I couldn't stand. I had wanted to rip everything to pieces and I turned to Marx for comfort but it was only a temporary solution. I needed more. I needed space and that's what I got. I snuck out of Abendrot not long after that and didn't look back. I didn't think I ever would. Again, how wrong I can be.

Over the past few weeks, I've been haunting the borders, leaving faint traces of my perfume. A part of me wanted to catch a peek of Kershov, wanted to see his reaction, if he even recognized my marks, but I knew that would just make it more painful. I wanted to see him on my terms, no one else's.

And so here I am, waiting on the borders, my tail up and my ears pricked. I know he could reject me. I know he could offer to send me to an early grave. Well, let him. I'll even let him take the first shot. I deserve a few licks for my lack of loyalty. I left when everyone else was doing the same. I turned my back on the pack I lived for and I deserve whatever I've got coming, but it doesn't mean I need to be a shriveled up pitiful mess on the ground when it comes. I will stand here proudly and take my licks cause no matter what, I'm still the warrior I was when I left. The warrior I was losing when I left but I found myself again. Now it's time I find my salvation.



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