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...?

Refresh/Reload

HIGH COMMANDER
IP: 202.180.106.231



Ebony and onyx mixed with the dappled sunlight. Flashing here and there was a sliver highlight, but the demon was mostly two tone black for none to see. A hunter's crouch was never left as he drifted like smoke back into the only place he has ever truly considered home. The borders scents hit him full in the face and his lips lifted to so many strangers gathering beside his king- like they understood what it meant to be a part of Abendrot. This soldier's loyalty went deeper than bone, deeper than blood, it was not tied to the alpha, but to the land itself, the rocks and the tree's, the very river that carved its icy water right through the swampy western border he now crossed. To go around would take time, his paws broke the surface without hesitation, without thought.

Abendrot's commander had returned.

Limbs struck out against the current and soon found the adjacent bank to which he leapt and shook, pausing slightly to look behind him. His days outside the pack had left him constantly looking over his shoulder...and with good reason. Kershov would not be completely happy with the events that had unfolded as a result of him tailing his nightly queen. She had vanished and Kershov has sent Marx after her immediately, he left, he followed, he studied. He knew he may never see Enigma again, he knew Scarlet may never return, so he guaranteed she would. What are doing, soldier.

Limbs outstretched and ate away at the distance between him and his sire. Every path, every bush, every game trail was stored in this soldiers brain and even though he was fast, he could not make up for a tardy appearance. He noted Kershov, doting his queenly figure, seemingly entranced and then ignored the rest. All he could see was her, the masked bandit that stole his cold, emotionless soul and somehow breathed life into it- made it feel, made it love. He bowed to the ruling pair, ignoring the queen's likely death stare and circled Enigma and sat next to her, meshing silks and flesh together. He wrapped his chin over her neck and pulled her to him and held her there....issuing a thousand silent apologies that would never leave his lips. He has almost lost her once and he has vowed to never let that happen again. The very thought quickened his heart beat and made a fire spark in his chest, the very heat threatening to burn through his windpipe.

My Enigma.

Words of a possessive nature were whispered, muzzle pointed to her ear, as if she were the only one allowed to her. She made the rest melt away, his past, his present, his god-only-knows future. It didn't matter, only she mattered- only she ever would. Slate gray orbs eventually tore themselves away to acknowledge other members of the pack that had turned up. A white fae was doing some sort of magic trick with a live hummingbird. ..and now my it disappear, my dear. The oldest trick in the book. The commander recognized Sebastian and Grey Wind, tail flicking in sync with the merest of nods of his cranium. A couple of strangers lurked, but wasn't that always the case, Marx acknowledged whoever did the same to him, but other than that, his eyes stayed firmly on Enigma's paws with the alphas words echoing through the lands.




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