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...?
IP: 71.66.247.212
Posted on September 14, 2015 at 09:50:14 PM by Macaria
The brute looked confused when Macaria inquired about his mother, about why she would care about Ghost. His response was not the explanation that she was looking for - instead he explained his father's infidelity that she had already surmissed. My mother was not the biological mother to Ghost. When my father was away on war he impregnated another female, breaking his loyalty to my mother. She was angry about that, and every time that she saw Ghost she was reminded of what my father had done, and she did not want us to be friendly with him for that reason. What is your relationship like with your mother? The question was loaded for the young fae and she bit her lip, looking away. The thing was that they didn't really have a relationship. The word mother meant nothing to her, it was just a word to describe a femme who had not had any affect on her life other than to occasionally annoy her, and even that was a new development. For all of her puphood and most of her months as a teen, Channing had just been another body in the den, a warm body that was selfish and didn't share its space or warmth. "My mother... is not important." Her vocals had turned cold and she changed the subject quickly, not wanting to waste time or breath discussing her, especially to a stranger. Because it was painful to thing about... the older she became, the more she realized that the relationship between her and her mother was not normal. Other vargs had mothers that cared about them and cared for them. They had two loving parents where she had had just the one - her father Henadin. Her aunt had been more of a caretaker for her than her mother... and Macaria was ashamed to find herself jealous of the wolves with two normal parents, and even more angry with her mother for robbing her of that experience. It was unforgivable. As they neared the boundary and Macaria hesitated, he talked her into crossing by saying that he needed help getting to his den. She reluctantly agreed and once more leaned against him. Don’t worry, you’re with a higher ranked soldier of Abendrot. Noone here will harm you while you stay close to me. It was a with a sigh of relief that she relaxed - it was almost as if he had read her thoughts and knew exactly what she was worried about. Gently, she helped him get toward his den, and when they finally reached it she gave him directions and agreed to stay with him to repoultice him for the new few days, but not any longer. He grunted before vocalizing his gratitude. Thank you. I owe you my life Macaria. She smiled softly at him, finally feeling as though she had done the right thing in following him into the dreaded Abendrot. Here we are. Ladies first, don't worry, it's spacious enough for both of us. Once more, the ess hesitated. It was improper to share a den with a brute who was not family or to whom she was mated... but it did sort of make sense. She was his doctor and he was her patient. He pushed aside shrubbery, a bunch of ferns and vines that hid the entrance to his den. Slowly, she entered, ducking her cranium so that she would not hit it off of the ceiling. The fae was dismayed to find that the den was father cosy - meant to be spacious for a single varg but it would be a tight fit for the pair of them. As she turned to mention this to him and to inquire as to whether he would mind if they widened it or deepened it for comfort, she instead let loose a scream as he lunged at her, his large frame easily knocking her own to the soft soil beneath them. another cry was pulled from her lips in quick succession as his daggers tore into her exposed shoulder, already torn by his previous outburst. this injury, however, as intentional and tore the bone from its socket,, effectively dislocating her should as his own had been. Her cries turned to quiet whimpers as the brute's own vocals began to rumble a warning. It seems you might need to spend a little more time with me than planned Macaria. So this had been his plan all along.... to trap her into staying with him and force her to continue to treat him. As he laid down in the hole of the den, she saw that there would be no escape. This den was to be her prison, and she would likely starve and die her... or at least be killed once her usefulness had worn out. Some would refuse to help him, refuse to work under the conditions of slaveship... but healing was this fae's life calling. she would continue to do it until she died... even if that was not to be too much longer. Wincing, the eboness rose with effort to her feet, her frame swaying in pain. Her rib cage expanded, taking in a deep breath to steady her nerves before she slammed her body into the wall, relocating her shoulder. Darkness clouded her vision and she screamed a final time before she collapsed into unconsciousness. |
Replies:
- Never Forget Who You Are - By Grey Wind September 20, 2015 at 04:24:09 PM