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...?

Refresh/Reload

EQUALITY IS MY NAME KILLING IS MY GAME
IP: 119.224.60.211
Posted on September 25, 2016 at 02:36:49 AM by Marx





Shades of sliver, white and ebony had honed in on the ground. The sound of dripping and the bite of the cold breeze was refreshing to the old warrior. Paws made precise, even steps towards the boundry line of the terra. Familarity all around him, darkness clouding his eyes no longer, a loyal stranger had returned to his motherland. Slate eyes that matched the snow scanned the terra, identifying the complete lack of activity that was strewn here. Everything was lost to him...and as per usual he had only one thing left to come back to. Eyes closed and he remembered how it all started...

Abendrot.

He had mistakenly entered the borders of Abendrot when he was a young pup, taken on by one alpha, then another as they came and went. He watched the leaders, rise and fall, but he never expected to see his most recent alpha run from his terra as if his personal demons were on his tail. He had been raised as a soldier, a guard, a loyal tool in Abendrot's arsenal. His presence, while absent, could never be a an indicator of his unquestionable loyalty. He had fought and won for Abendrot more times than he could count, he had brought his last alpha back his paramore so they could create more spawn to rule Abendrot- but it seemed it wasn't to be. Scarlet Nights had vanished whilst in pup and Marx, naturally, had trailed her to find his queen. He opened his cold, grey eyes and stared into the avast wilderness of Abendrot.

Enigma.

His masked bandit, his love, his queen of all time. Her scent was absent, gone from the wind. A subtle whine left his maw, a rare display of open emotion from the cold hearted killer. His eyes cast over the winter wonderland, he had first come here as the snow fell, often his mentor said he was part arctic brute- his coat blended so perfectly with the snowy terra, even though it was mainly more ebony, the shades of slate grey and the snowfall made him a ghost like figure. He stood straight, inahling the sharp wind and found the most predominant scent of all. Once had been a student of his own, a second in command to the Commander of Abendrot Soldiers. Grey Wind had made a fine cadet, but had demonstrated personal demons of his own- like Kershov, he sometimes had difficulty controlling them. Marx knew Grey Wind would just as likely kill him as he would welcome him back. Abendrot was a land of acceptance or death, there never was a middle ground. Marx had built a name for himself here, but it rarely counted if you didn't stick around to remind wolves what a force you could be.

Grey Wind.

His eyes narrowed and he seldom took pause before extending his thick, muscled neck in a loud call over the lands he called home. It echoed off the evergreens, the ice and snow. It called for company, for acceptance and for Grey Wind himself. He had returned and he accepted any and all consequences.






M A R X
Former High Commander of the Abendrot Soldiers

I HAVE RETURNED


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