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 April 22, 2017 at 05:47:26 PM by Macaria
She had been awake when the brute had left but had feigned slumber – she was not one for goodbyes. Or, rather, she was no longer one for goodbyes. The femme was not as she had once been, and in almost all ways was the complete opposite, having become the devil to the naïve angel that she had once been. In a way, Macaria missed Padfoot even now, but it was not for want of an emotional connection, but rather a lustful desire for the physical contact that they had experienced together. Surprisingly, the nearly endless hunger she had no longer called for his blood – the meal she had made of the timid faeling had filled her quiet well enough. Part of her hoped that she ran into the brute again, if only so that he could so fully fulfill her needs once again. And now, as she lay in her den, she purred as she realized how sore she was. Or at least how sore she imagined herself to be. There was no pain – there never was. But there was a pressure from her swollen, irritated tissues that was resultant from their activities of the night before that left her still pleasantly pleased. Macaria very nearly slipped finally into sleep herself as she sensed daylight coming, her den brightening, and the eboness curled the tip off her plume over her mask. But then abrupty both her pleasure and her ability to sleep failed her as a raging set of deep vocals rumbled into her abode, calling her name. No, not calling… demanding. Macaria let loose a low growl that rolled off of the walls in response to Grey Wind’s voice. Their last conversation had been, what, a month previous? And it had not ended well. She had made accusations and demands herself, and had heard nothing from him since. Not that she had been around or available to him, but that had been part of the point she had made, wasn’t it? That she was not his, and that where she went and what she did was none of his business. That unless he was going to admit his feelings to her or take her as his slave, he no longer held any sway over her. And his obvious attitude now was rather… annoying to be put mildly. Slowly, she unfurled herself from her curled form, each of her hairs quivering with rage, and slunk out, her orbs staring at his tightened bodice as he came into view. It was easy to see that he was mad about something, and Macaria’s eyes dropped to the ground – not out of respect, but to see the retreating paw prints that belonged to Padfoot. It was easy to tell that a brute – no, a stranger, an outsider – had been within her den. His paw prints nearly doubled her petite ones inside. So… that was it was it? Her pumpkins snapped upward to land upon the Alpha’s façade again, studying it. All along, though, Macaria’s growl continued as she now glared at him with her lips raised. She was every inch the picture of danger – hackles prickled up over her spine with her plume flickering from side to side, showing all too clearly her agitation. “What the fuck gives you the right to command me around, Grey? Unless you are purely doing so as an alpha who needs me to do something for the pack, then I suggest you shut it!” If it had been any other wolf, any other situation of a Zeta talking to their Alpha, there is no doubt that a battle would ensue. The Zeta would – at the minimum – be stripped of her rank and punished, if not outright exiled from the pack or killed. But Macaria would almost prefer that – at least then it would show Grey Wind’s mind was firmly made up, one way or another. Her lip molded into a distinct sneer and she snorted. “As a Zeta, I have the right to lead outsiders into the pack. But that isn’t why you are mad, is it? It’s because you know why I led him in, what I did with him, what he did to me, isn’t it? Well then you should just walk away Grey – you made your position quite clear earlier, and have no right to be jealous or angry with me. I have been doing what I wanted with whoever I wanted, and will always continue to do so with or without a mate!” She laughed bitterly then and turned away from him, shaking her head. Staring at her paws, she slowly lifted one and used her first dagger to slowly cut a line through the flesh on the foreleg of her other limb. Still shaking, she peered up to him. “This is what I am now, Grey. Because of you this is what I have become. I feel no pain and yet that is what I crave. In my pain are my memories and without it, they fade and swirl into a forgotten part of my mind. And so my cravings increase until I need to feed upon whatever or whoever is in front of me, or to take them in throes of passion. Or both. I am a monster that the previous me would have been afraid of. I cannot control it, but I do not want. But don’t worry, he fulfilled my needs. For now.” Macaria shook her head and turned to go back within her den. Her vocals dropped to a quieter timber. “Just leave me alone, Grey.” Although the gentler side of her was repressed deep within her, a part had slipped out, one that allowed her pain to seep through, but not because of the cut on her limb but instead because of the injury to her heart. |
Replies:
- 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