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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Loyal Til Death
IP: 107.214.136.138

 photo Kalgalath_zps78b9da12.jpg

Loyalty means nothing unless it has at its heart the absolute principle of self-sacrifice

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The great grey mottled brute had lain down, expecting for the fae that he... loved... To be at his den in a while, but before he slept. Instead, Kalgalath awoke suddenly with a terrible pit in his stomach and jumped to his feet, shoulder screaming in agony. "Augh!" A roar rumbled from his chest and he curved his body so that his left shoulder was no longer being stretched. His cranium swept around to look at it and saw thin streams of diluted blood sweeping down his shoulder. Apparently his quick action had torn the scab that had formed, and the dull, throbbing pain returned. "Sebring, I ..." His arctics swept to where her sleeping form should be - beside him - but instead there was an empty, needle covered floor that was forebodingly cold. She had never arrived. Before he had time to register or even think about what to do, Kalgalath's haunches pushed off the earth and rushed him through the grove. The branches and needles tore at his flesh, ripping off the poultice and the shoulder began to bleed freshly in full.

"Sebring!" His mind denied the possibility that she had decided to not heed his call. As mad as she was or wasn't, she would have at least come and told him that she was angry would him - she was not the sort to ignore completely especially as she had wanted to talk before, in front of Hocus and Aindreas. Something had happened. And then as his shoulder began to sting and he felt the liquid streaming down his pelt, he remembered her injuries. The trek up the ravine had been difficult enough for him, and only sheer stubbornness had allowed him to complete his fight with the slope. How could he be so selfish to want to rest in his own den without even thinking about the difficulties it would prove to her!? He should have picked one of the empty dens lower in the territory and rested there until both he and her were completely healed. But he hadn't, and instead had expected her to force herself to the extremes without being there to support her. That's what mates were supposed to do - support each other. And just then, he realized that that was exactly what he wanted from her. He wanted her to be his Queen.

"Sebring!" His maw opened as he yelled sharply, his arctics swiping around the surroundings frantically, and then his nares picked up on her scent and he started running down the slope. As he descended, her pelt came into his sight and he moved as quickly as he could to her side. His memories flashed back to when he had first met her upon the beach of Leisure Lake and it was almost identical, except at least this time, she was out of the water, but still soaked to the bone. And in this cold, who knew how long she would last without shelter. With his wound, he had been barely open to go up the slope by himself and there would be no way that he could drag her up it. Gently, he nuzzled his nares against her cheek before turning to the snow covered slope. Without hesitating, his front daggers began to dig through the crusted snow and into the hardened ground. His pads began to bleed, but he continued, dirt flying behind him, until a rough, but deep den was dug into the side of the slope. It was high enough from the river to prevent even a swollen current from entering, and the neck was thin enough to protect the interior from precipitation. The entire den was coated in his blood, but it had already begun to dry when Kalgalath's teeth closed around Sebring scruff and he carefully dragged her into the den. Situating himself around her, he encircled her completely and began to clean her pelt, attempting to dry her out a bit.

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**adult*male*Aurora Borealis King*tied to Zig none*Father to Aindreas, Adara, Rohan, and Blayre**
table (c) CRS '13





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