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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THE TASTE THAT LIPS ALLOW
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So, what are you going to do with me?

The question was more than what he need to lower his bodice to mesh with hers. Teeth and tongue dragging themselves down her jugular, every delicate touch, he felt her pulse strike her carotid vein harder. Onyx robes engulfed her masked figure and grinding strokes, muscled flesh striking softer underbelly. His paws sunk into the mud and his teeth occasionally clamped onto his lovelies skin, compressing so hard it left an imprint, but didn't break the skin. Soft murmurs of pleasure rumbled from deep in his throat, emanating out into the empty air that surrounded them. Besides the soft babble of the creek, the woods were fairly quiet.

Marx suddenly stepped off her and reared, bringing his forelimbs down suddenly into the shallows that Enigma was soaking in. It seemed pointless, but he sent a waves of water splashing over he bodice and then turned tail and ran, like a school boy with a water gun. Paws galloped up the bank and ate up the short distance towards an old willow which had limbs that drooped in a perfect circle around the gnarled trunk. Long slender willow fronds moved gently like live tendrils in the soft breeze. It was into this little paradise he darted, knowing she would be on his heels. He would turn, stop allow her to clash with him, but this time, he made sure she would end up on the ground, belly down. Once this was achieved, he stepped over her, his belly meshing with her back, muzzle running up her spine to rest between her ears. He pressed her skull down and his mouth was suddenly at her ear.

This is what I want to do to you. This is all I want to do to you.

It was the closest thing to permission Marx would ever ask, but she would know he wasn't simply asking about the act they were about to undertake, but the consequences that might follow said act. Marx himself was fine with whatever happened, quey sarah sarah and all that bull. But he wasn't sure Enigma was quite ready for such little cute consequences. He knew that it was up to her and at the end of the day- she would be the deciding factor if their family grew any larger. Her scent was intoxicating and he found he could no longer hold himself back and again gripped her scruff between his teeth while their bodies meshed as one time and time again.

When do we really start living?



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