aurora borealis- noun plural: An aurora that occurs in northern regions of the earth. Also called northern lights.

In the middle of a dense forest of coniferous trees lies the Aurora Borealis pack, its name coming from its location. At certain times of the year, the northern lights appear, dancing almost magically in the sky. A narrow trail leads you through the close evergreens. Giving into temptation, you begin moving your paws. By venturing into this territory, you are venturing into a land belonging to a pair of feared leaders. You have heard rumors of them...but you decide to take your chances and hope that the tales of blood and death are merely fabricated stories to scare wolves.

You have walked nearly five minutes before you realize the sound of paws stepping somewhere from behind. Deciding that you've made a mistake, you quickly turn around, but find that you cannot go any further. Standing before you is one of the mighty kings you've heard of. His blood red pelt clings over perfectly toned bands of muscle. But that isn't what causes such fear in your veins. One of his amber eyes has a horrid, bleeding scar across it, and his good eye seems to stare right through you. His face is expressionless, giving off none of his intentions. You cower away as his jaws part.

"I'm Hell Demon."

His voice was deep and cut through the air like a hot knife through butter. Right where he left off, another voice picks up from behind you. You whirl around and find yourself facing another male with steely muscles beneath his pelt, which seems to consist of every shade of brown. He had startled you, and you're amazed how you hadn't at all detected his approach.

"And I am Ghost...we're the alphas of Aurora Borealis."

His deep voice was laced thickly with a Native American accent. His own golden eyes are directing a harsh glare your way. Now you're caught in the middle...your breathing has become heavy in your panic and you're not sure which to face.

"You've foolishly trespassed into our territory. You face the one called Hell Demon's whose voice is once more addressing you. Get out, or become a corpse along our border."

It's obvious they mean business. So now it's up to you...take your chances and stay, or heed their warning and waste no time getting out with your life.

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 photo kik_zpstlmuvss9.jpg
Niara



She had always wanted a challenge.

With her old pack, life had felt bland for her- she needed to get her blood rushing, needed to push herself to the limits. And that’s why Niara left. Life there was splendid, as easy as delivering the final blow to a plump rabbit. Their pack had no wars, no illnesses, no deranged wolves among their ranks. It was almost too good, Niara had decided. Every single hunt her pack went on came back successful. Every single border dispute, which was a rare occurrence, ended with a nice truce and good feelings.

That’s why Niara had come to blossom. And now, she was determined to find a pack to challenge her. She had been wandering in an oblique line; a wolf she had passed not so long ago had directed her in this direction. She thought. Now, Niara felt hesitant and weary; she’d been traveling for quite some time without even a hint of a pack. Golden orbs traveled over the thick foliage of the forest, looking for any sign of life at all.

Within minutes, her nostrils began to detect signs of a scent. The scent of some sort of pack, to be precise. Hopefully, this would be Aurora Borealis. According to some of the wolves she had spoken to on her journey, this pack would challenge her, but it wasn’t brutal enough to kill her or changer her. Anything is better than the past, Niara silently thought to herself, flicking her ears.

All at once, Niara came to the border of the territory. Not daring to venture further in and seek acceptance, the vixen patiently waited at the border. Some packs she had encountered outside of blossom allowed outsiders to come to the core to request to join the pack; other’s tore those kind of wolves to shreds. She would prefer the former instead of the latter, to be honest. Lifting her muzzle into the air, Niara pierced the peaceness of the forest with a high-pitched, long, hollow call that echoed through the forest. There. Someone is bound to hear that.

After the howl died down, the vixen took a few steps backwards away from the border, just to be safe. Then, she patiently placed her rear on the forest floor, waiting for someone from the pack to come and seek her out.

(OOC: OOOOOooooo I haven't done this kind of writing in a very long time so this is super duper duper super crappy)



Niara – Packless – Bound to none – Pupless – Malpal


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