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: 107.132.59.42
Posted on January 23, 2017 at 10:46:40 PM by Macaria
It slightly angered her that her gift to him was denied. There she had stood with the helpless lass locked in her jowls, trapped without any hope of escape. She had staved off the best part of the night by waiting and offering him Leanne’s throat. It was, in truth, Macaria’s favorite part of the murder. It wasn’t the chase or the intrigue… it was the actual act of the murder. The feeling of her teeth sinking through flesh and sinew and muscle. The gentle wave of the jugular vein closely followed by the pounding of the artery against her canines as they drove themselves deeper and deeper. And then, of course, there were the screams that slid along the scale, diminishing to gurgles… and those added to the sensation by causing vibrations against her tongue as it lapped at the bloodied flesh, causing it to tingle and tremor in excitement. She had wanted to share all of that with Padfoot, so that he could know the difference from what it was to kill a Lera. Wolves were stronger, the taste was different, the smell was different… the experience was different as a whole. But he said no. Perhaps not in words, but he made it perfectly clear from his spot in the shadows that he would not take part in Macaria’s sadistic ritualistic slaughter of the femme. For a moment she stared at him, lids narrowed as she waited for him to change his mind, but he never did. And so her teeth released the darling varg’s nape briefly in order to readjust her grip and clamp down on her neck. Just as she imagined, her teeth pierced through all layers of the skin and she relished in the warmth that sprayed upon her. She felt her grasp clasping down on the fae’s trachea and the screams ceased as the blood ran down it. Just as Macaria had become accustomed to, the gurgles started. She released her clasped jaw and began to feed on the femme’s flesh even though her heart was not done pumping. The flesh pulled away from the body and she gulped it down hungrily until she had had her full. Her ravenous desire to kill and ingest other vargs diminished until she was content. As she ate, her pumpkins watched him enter the scene from the shadows that he had previously been hiding within. She growled as he neared her, both wanting him to share in her meal and angry that he neared her. He would not get to share in the meal as he did not do any of the work to obtain it. Her lips rose as he neared her but she calmed as he licked at her lips, cleaning the blood from it. ‘Macaria.’ The fae looked up and for a moment felt the urge to taste his blood too, but the feeling passed quickly as he continued to caress her lips. The thought of him denying her offer, her gift, diminished as he swallowed the leftovers that he was cleaning off of her. As soon as he finished, she leaned into him. “You know, you could learn to like my particular palate if you would only try it… but never mind that.” She moved past him, ending the conversation, and turned her nose toward Abendrot once more. They were not far now… and the thought of home made her increase her gait. The closer they came to the border, the closer they came to dawn. Macaria’s lids were getting heavy but she persevered until they finally at last crossed the boundary. Macaria leapt over it and turned around, waiting for Padfoot to cross too. If he hesitated at all, she would move to his side and tug on his scruff until she could drag him over the boundary. Then and only then would she continue, leading the way to her den. She paused at the opening of her den and gestured inside. “Widen it a bit for me, will you love?” |
Replies:
- I Solemnly Swear That I am Up to No Good - By Padfoot February 1, 2017 at 04:06:23 PM
black.widow.spider - By Macaria April 1, 2017 at 01:00:59 AM
I Solemnly Swear That I am Up to No Good - By Padfoot and Grey Wind April 4, 2017 at 01:24:30 AM
black.widow.spider - By Macaria April 22, 2017 at 05:47:26 PM
Never Forget Who You Are - By Grey Wind May 1, 2017 at 02:16:07 AM
Black.widow.spider - By Macaria May 19, 2017 at 03:24:34 AM