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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Amias had never been particularly tied down in Abendrot. Kershov never seemed to mind that he wandered in and out much, though Amias did make an effort not to be gone too often. Recently, his efforts had been focused to finding his mother and siblings. Unfortunately, there had been little headway on that matter and Amias was beginning to feel that it might be better that they find him on their own terms. What he had found on his recent expeditions, however, was that the king’s scent was fading from Abendrot’s borders. Rather unusual given Kershov’s fearsome protectiveness of his pack. In the stead of Kershov’s scent, a new one was marking the borders. One Mias didn’t recognize. It obviously was someone from the pack, he wasn’t oblivious enough to miss a challenge, but he wasn’t sure who. Maybe it would be good to investigate, though it wasn’t as though he really cared.

The varg plodded through Abendrot, never one to rush when there wasn’t a need for it. When a howl resounded across the pack, he did pick up his pace, but he didn’t run. There was no urgency in this call and Amias didn’t see the reason to use his energy for no reason. He would get there when he got there. Besides, it wasn’t as if it was Kershov calling. What Amias held for the warrior was not fear, but respect, something that this call did not warrant of him as the ice king’s had. He could smell the small gathering of lupines as he neared them, but he didn’t know any of them.

There were five when he arrived, entering slowly. He wasn’t unsure, but he had no strong inclinations to frightened or confident. He sat slightly apart from the group, close enough to be a comrade, but not close enough to be friends with any of them. He heard their names being thrown about. Halina, Ygritte, Grey Wind, Mabbit, Ambrosia. He vaguely remembered Halina from the last pack meeting, and Grey Wind was some high ranking wolf, but he didn’t know the others. His dull green eyes scanned the bunch, taking them in. Mabbit was congratulating Grey Wind, so he was probably the new alpha, and if Mias had caught the tail end of Grey Wind’s earlier conversation correctly, Halina was the Beta. He dipped his head to the group.

“Yes, congratulations to both of you…” His soft voice, low from disuse, echoed Mabbit. “I am Amias, one of Verity’s sons.” He spoke in a monotone, making brief eye contact with the others. He wondered if this was all there was left in Abendrot. That would be sad. The once feared pack down to this small group? If he’d a sense of humor, he would have laughed.

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