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: 119.224.60.211



Something about the fae seemed too familiar. Did Marx know her? Her scent was unknown to him and he liked to think he had a pretty good memory. He went over the facts. Kenshin brought her here, Kenshin was tied with Kahlan or at least intimately involved with her. Marx made sure he knew the ins and outs of every pack and his little trip away had involved in collecting not only Ker's queen, but also valuable intel. He knew Saw Tooth's alpha was recently deceased due to sickness and that another had taken her place- presumably as she had wished. Perhaps this was the chance that Abendrot needed to make an ally out of them. They were in a position of instability and weakness and Abendrot needed healers if they were to progress with claiming more lands for themselves.

He found himself thinking about Enigma, about what he'd do to to the wolf that actually managed to capture her. He couldn't begin to describe the delightful torture they'd endure, he'd like to think he'd have the patience for that- but he knew a quick bite to the throat would give enough pleasure for a lifetime. Watching someone stumble away from you, no voice, unable to breathe, lips turning a beautiful, cyanotic blue- that was wonderful. The knowledge that their own jugular was now bleeding into their lungs and they were effectively drowning in their own blood- that was exquisite. Marx began to feel hunger pangs- it had been too long since he'd had a decent meal and he'd only once hunted successfully against an elk in the weeks he tailed Nights. Sudden thrashing and quickly drawn breaths came from the femme as she startled awake- just as quickly Kenshins paws were slamming her back down into the dust. Marx watched, practically bored at this point. Kershov had many matters to handle and little time to handle them. The femme caught Marx's eye and gave him look of pure defiance, to which Marx grinned at, fangs curving over obsidian lips like daggers drawn.

Then she smiled at him.

Marx didn't show the merest confusion he felt on his face, but the kindness she seemed to possess radiated out of her orbs, almost in a plea of forgiveness. Marx kneaded the earth, thinking. Then, I remembered Vlayda. Eyes widened at what and who she was but the joker's grin remained.
I am no white knight, darling.

We haven't officially met, my lady. I'm Marx, high commander of the Abendrot Soldiers and you..... seem to be in deep waters.

Not that I'm in a position to throw you a lifeline. His voice was a rolling gravel on smoke type which was hushed now, as he lean't forward to address the doe on the ground. She didn't seem to know any of the trio, but he knew her or at least, enough about her. She was frightened, good, she should be. She was not among friends and when Kershov got here, Marx knew there was a high chance her pretty head would be separated from the rest of her or perhaps Kershov would make an arts and crafts project out of her. Who knows. Their alpha was such a creative being at times.



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