<small>BENEATH THE GOLD</small>

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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BENEATH THE GOLD
IP: 97.85.211.253
Posted on August 19, 2015 at 01:51:28 AM by Murmr

I N D I F F E R E N C E
will communicate the stars' empathy towards my fate

In the stillness: beneath the yellow trees; the coos of morning doves in my ears; the pull of cool dew in my fur, I pondered. I began to weave images of marvelous things, of cotton fluff memories and sugar-sweet baby's breath. It was the roar of a wolf that woke me, it was the roar of a wolf that thrilled.

As he waited, he reminisced. Back in containment, there had been few others like them. Yes, the occasional maned wolf would pass through, but they were strangers and remained such until their imminent, and hasty relocation. Murmr always thought it had something to do with him; perhaps he was too forward, had unwittingly shown signs of aggression. Would things have turned out differently if he'd restrained himself, even a little bit? Did he want them to have?

It was obsessive and needlessly pessimistic to think of such things, especially now when he was so close to securing this new home. Maybe in the dark of a warm den, on a muggy night with the smell of soil and pine in his nose he'd crawl back to those miserable ponderings. But not now.
Not now. No, he'd rest now, in anticipation of brighter, better things. A pack, a home, family, security. Things which had before never appealed to him now seemed a gilded luxury.

Murmr hadn't expected someone to come to the door so soon. It seemed as though he'd scarcely tucked himself away when the baritone wolf huffed, and puffed, and summoned him from the leaves. And although it didn't look to Murmr that the creature had pinpointed his location, he wasn't exactly pleased with the thought of suffering its poor mood.

With skeletal similarity, the maned wolf unfolded himself proudly, and gracefully, from his sanctuary. His eyes, sharp as brambles and fickle as the wind, scanned this new face. Pain, as with every other beast he'd ever met, graced the rough, tired features -- deep as the ocean, it always left the most unmistakable ache. He wondered mildly where this particular wolf had reaped his share, but it was a sentiment quickly swept away.

What else? It was big, much bigger in girth than Murmr, but not quite as tall. Authority poured from his veins, even if only over the trespassing fox. So it was confident, perhaps that it could overpower Murmr if need be, perhaps in an ability to summon help. Knowing so set his teeth on edge. Could he ever stand against such a magnificent thing?
Time would tell, surely. It would be near impossible, he thought, to avoid conflict completely once within these invisible walls. Licking his lips, Murmr blinked up to the varg's eyes for only a moment before hopping somewhere distant.
"I always know what's good for me." Murmr's grim expression was quickly turned to a casual warmth, shoulders slack and inviting.
"I am sorry, my intentions were not to become a nuisance. I'm a stray in need of a home." That didn't satisfy his standards, though, did it?

"I promise, whatever pretenses you may have: I will prove invaluable." Even if it felt like a lie now, he was determined, and could become anything if the need was there; if the need was great enough.

A butterfly, fallen from grace, lies still on the pavement. Her wings lay, plucked from her warm body, a few inches away. Is there anything worth living for, then? Is there anything worth obtaining once your freedom is extinct?
Only time could tell. But alas, it's too late. She's gone.

(maned wolf)

Replies:

Never Forget Who You Are - By Grey Wind August 26, 2015 at 03:56:50 AM

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