Bright Moon - a land sullied by mystery and the ravaging scars of a terrible fire. Abandoned as a pack land for years, the terra has been used as a gathering place for the brazen and bloodthirsty drawn there by the lingering pall of death. Yet from the ashes there comes an unordained phoenix, the rainbow hues of hope glinting in her mismatched globes. Through the obsidian drapes obscuring the scenery, she alone was able to catch the perfumed aroma of new life on the breeze and hear the sluggish streams flowing ever swifter into the morning.
Thus, with a purpose, she set out to map the incognita, discovering daily the extent of the reawakening and unearthing within herself a desire to return the landscape to its former glory. Now she stands tall as privileged Alpha of the lands, lording over the rock-strewn prairie and bountiful forests with a firm but gentle paw.
Having finally realized her deepest longing to be a queen, Satowra is focused solely on the revival and maintenance of the Bright Moon Pack. Her question to each prospective warrior that comes to the border is simple:
"Do you have what it takes?"
IP: 65.29.75.36
Posted on October 18, 2017 at 04:48:47 PM by Kahlan
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I cannot say that I have no emotions, as the pesky fuckers seem to keep finding ways to escape the prison that I banished them to. But on the topic of Kershov's return, I can not even understand what emotions have slipped through to the surface. Was I once angry with him for forcing Channing and Henadin's pups to be born far from home and for stealing away one of the pups? Yes, of course I was... but at the same time I had also had a respect for him because of those same events. He could have had Channing and her unborn pups killed simply because she trespassed into his lands. He had not, and instead had even offered for one of his own healers to watch over her and ensure that everything went smoothly. Channing had recovered uneventfully and the pups had all survived save one - the little femme who Henadin had taken to the river's edge for nature to reclaim. And, of course, one pup was lost to Kershov himself - but my brother and his mate were allowed to choose which pup went to the Ice King, and they had chosen little Roheryn as tribute. As for Roheryn, Kershov had offered to keep him not as a slave, but to raise him as his own, like a warrior, teaching him invaluable skills much in the way that Henadin would have himself. Kershov had then kept to the promise struck with Moth - Kirastasia in exchange for Roheryn. However unhappy Kirastasia had originally been with the plan, she had happily latched onto me like a whelp to a tit. But Kira was not the wolf under question right now... but rather her father was. Had I ever hated Kershov? Ah... that was the question that truly needed to be asked and answered. Aside from those within his ranks there were few who did not either fear or hate him, and plenty who both feared and hated him. They gave him many dark names - Murderer, Torturer, Fiend - and unsavory qualities - cruel, sadistic, devilish. But they also could not claim to have ever spent any time with him, or gotten to know him. I, for whatever reason, had been named the unofficial liason between Saw Tooth and Abendrot during their touchy and fragile alliance. Any time he had shown up at the border, I had been the one to answer his call. I had spoken with him at length about trivial things, purposeful things, random things. Bit by bit we had learned things about one another, and eventually he had come to me in need. It had given me the ability to call upon him at some point for a favor - a favor that I had yet to cash in. He had required help in order to save one of his packmates who had been poisoned... not to mention that he himself had been poisoned. But that was not the point of this, not that one simple event. And yet that one event had placed in my heart a tenderness for him - despite his own agonizing pain (and I know he was in agony based on the poison used) he had dragged his packmate the many miles to reach me in order to save her. And I discovered something that few actually knew - Kershov had a heart. It was hidden deep within the fortress that he had erected around him for protection, but it was there. His manipulations, his deviations... they were nothing more than defensive mechanisms meant to protect himself... and perhaps protect others as well. And then of course, there was that one time when we... well when something happened. It was right after I had left Kirastasia, right after I had abandoned her in her den in the middle of the night. I had felt broken, torn, destroyed. Something had been not quite right in my head, and I decided to leave it all behind - all of it. My pack, my family, my friends, Blossom Forest as a whole... her... And there I was standing in the middle of a field of flowers. It was to be my last day there and for some reason, that field - half burned, half prosperous - had called to me, had spoken to the depths of my soul. But then the sound of another approaching had caused me to listen backwards... and catch Kershov's scent. His darkness had taken over him and he had plans to destroy me... until I changed his mind. I remember him getting closer, I remember... that something important happened... but is it. The rest of my memory is gone. The next thing I remember is opening my eyes, being sore and tired, and being somewhere new, a place I did not know or recognize. That had been the first fugue state I experienced. But it had not been the last. And here I was, once again running away from Kirastasia. But I had not run from her den, I had not run from my pack - I had every intention of returning. I had not run from my family, for I now had none. But I was running from her and toward her father, because if anyone would be straight with me, if anyone perhaps might have the answers I was searching for, perhaps it was Kershov. I had locked away or at least tried to lock away my emotions, but I have been failing. They keep slipping through, and so I have to face the one who knows me but confuses me. The one who is so different from what everyone else thinks he is. I figure if I can remember what happened that one time, I can figure out what happens each time I black out. Then maybe I can figure out what I black out. And then maybe I can find what I am really looking for - happiness. It has been the one thing that has been evading me above everything else. I am at the boundary now, at the border. I know I am tilting my head up, calling for him, but it feels surreal. My head is getting blurry but I don't black out, it is like something is trying to break through to me, a memory, something of importance. I sit, making sure that I do not fall over, and prepare myself for the long wait - it could be minutes or hours until he graces me with his presence. But then... I don't have that long do it? I don't know the next time that I will black out, and I need some answers. And so without a second thought I stand and cross into the pack. My facade is blank, stoic. Someone will cross me sooner or later, and whether it is Kershov or one of his minions, one way or another I will get to him. |
Replies:
- FROZEN MASS GRAVE - By KERSHOV November 17, 2017 at 04:10:15 PM
I’m just a puzzle missing a few pieces - By Kahlan November 25, 2017 at 04:59:54 PM
FROZEN MASS GRAVE [m] - By KERSHOV November 30, 2017 at 05:17:29 PM
im just a puzzle missing a few pieces [ m ] - By Kahlan December 11, 2017 at 02:19:35 PM
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