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: 69.58.126.118
Posted on November 25, 2017 at 04:59:54 PM by Kahlan
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She had half expected for one of Kershov‘s lackeys to find her before he did. Kah remembered the way of his old pack - it was an army, a fortress that no one would enter willingly unless they themselves lived there. And yet as she lackadaisically stepped over the border, no one rushed her, no one snapped her neck, no one so much as touched her. With a slight frown and the raising of a single brow, She continued deeper into the abyss, her honey pools sweeping the territory. It was at a leisurely rate that she traversed across the bouldered floor - she was in no rush to get anywhere fast, and to be truthful was not really sure where she was going. The russeted femme had never been to this pack, not since the change that had taken over the lands. But she had to come here, she had to know. There was a scratch, a wound with a heavy laden scab overlying it in her memory… And yet when she tried to itch it, she found only pain. And was that not exactly what she was running from? Pain, suffering, betrayal? All she wanted, all she really wanted was happiness. And currently, she believed that she needed to be left alone to her own devices in order to find such a thing. And yet here she was, trying to find the magical key to pry off the painful scab. There was a bored expression on her face, the stoicness ruined by the downward curl of her kissers. She knew that she would find no memory sparked by this place -after all, she knew that it had something to do with Kershov… But this place had not existed, not back then. And so she had come here not for the scenery, but for the king himself. And yet part of her had wished for one of his pack mates to find her, to snap at her, to threaten her life. And though there could be only two possible outcomes to such an event - one being her immediate death - she had found the prospect amusing … first of all, she knew that her death by one of Kershov’s subordinates would anger the ice-King. They - she and Kershov - had a weird, twisted camaraderie between them, something that Kahlan could not easily explain. Their relationship did not have any defined parameters… But there was respect there. But to digress, the first outcome would’ve been her death. And perhaps that would have not been the worst thing, after all, would she not have found peace with in the gentle embrace of death? Perhaps… But the second outcome would have been far more preferred - she would have been able to warn them not to touch her, not to touch a single hair upon her body lest they come to regret it. It would’ve been entertaining, amusing. And, of course, it would’ve been something completely unlike anything that she had ever done. Ever had she been the sweet and innocent and caring and giving Kahlan… But not now. Now she cared only for herself, damn the risks and the consequences. It gave her a sense of boldness, a blind courage that was dangerous to herself and any near her. But alas, it was the ice king himself who greeted her, and thus her dark fantasies would never be played out. ‘Madame Kahlan… It has been too long. But surely not so long that you felt you needed to cross my borders just to find me?’ The motion of her limbs slowed and finally she stopped. Her gaze swept the earth around her once more before returning it to the black pits that Kershov have referred to as his eyes. The downward curl of her lips slowly raised into a set line… But perhaps there was the hint of a smile the end of it. She always knew exactly what to expect with Kershov, and so despite her new emotionless self, she found that his presence could actually be enjoyed. With him, she knew exactly what to expect… And that there would be no betrayal. If there was pain, it would be brought on by herself. She had no need or cause to fear him, not now… But… Eyebrows furrowed together once more and she averted her gaze for a second… Had there not been a time when she had feared him? Why did a shiver run down her spine at the thought of the two of them being alone? He had never once threatened her… Had he? Slowly, she shook her head and returned to look at him. “I am surprised by you… And not much surprises me anymore.” Her tone was cold, monotone. “When you left, I assume it was with good reason. But why return here? Although… I suppose if I aim that question at you I must also ask it to myself considering I made much the same decision as you did. Although I cannot say I made it… Consciously… ” She had not meant to allude to her mental illness… And yet she knew that even if she had been forthright and completely honest about it, it would not have phased the ice king. “But why here Kershov, why not Abendrot? Always has it been your kingdom, and yet now you neglect it and leave it in disarray in order to live among a bunch of boulders, with the constant threat of salty, brine filled waves that threatened to tear down your walls?” She shook her head… Because could she really blame him? She herself had danced her little paws from one pack to the next, always searching for something different, something better, a place to forget… And yet there was this one god damned memory would not come when called. The one thing she wished to remember, she could not now… ‘You appear troubled. What brings you…’ Kahlan cocked her head as suddenly Kershov fell silent before her. There was no reason for him to - she had not interrupted him. Her lids narrowed as she studied him… When was the last time that she cared about another this much so as to search for the cause of their discomfort. Not since she was a healer… And that was long ago. Kershov seemed calm, still… But there were something off. And then her lids widened. Always, Kershov was supple and his motions, graceful, even despite the fact that he so often and easily mounted terror within others. But though he still looks smooth now, he was frozen to his spot. She could see his muscles get tightened… It was subtle, not something that most others would see. But she saw it. What was bothering him as much as it was bothering her? ‘Kahlan … We left on a bad note.’ There was a pause, almost as if he was waiting for her to say something, either to the affirmative or the negative. She had never seen indecision within Kershov, and it unsettled her to see it now. ‘There is darkness in our history. I did something… We did something. And it must not have been holy unpleasant… For you were still alive, And I… I recall what your back feels like under my abdomen. Why do you think that is, Kahlan?’ The mistress stared blankly at him, as if she was about to call him a dolt, an idiot for ever thinking of such a thing. But as she stared at him, stared at him staring back at her, she recalled a hunger. Not her own, but his. He had been stalking her… Seeking to… Something? Eat her, perhaps tear her apart? But why? Why was… But that was it wasn’t it? Suddenly, she winced and began to shiver, and pulled her nape closer to her chest as broken images flickered back to her - it had been a colder day and she had been alone in a field... and she had turned around right before Kershov had pounced on her. She had called him out on it.. and then... the opposite of murder had happened. She remembered him taking her as Kenshin had... “This is the beginning, the first piece that is missing from my time slip. The first clue...” She had not meant to speak her mind aloud, nor was she really sure she had... but the next set of vocals were meant for him. “You know what I feel like beneath you because I have been there. But it is... not a clear image, it is not defined. And I need your help - I am... afflicted with something that I have no name for that steals time and memories from me.” Yes, her next suggestion would be to help overcome it, perhaps, but it would also injure the one who was threatening Kahlan the most right now - Kirastasia. “Take me again, Kershov? I trust you with this information, as I have told no others, and I cannot say that it will not be an unpleasant experience, but rather quiet the contrary. Help me, help yourself remember what happened that day... for I do not think that that is all. I think there is more.. more we need to find.” She stepped closer to him and nuzzled against him, surprised that his muscles were still tightened, but oh god his muscles were so strong against her soft bodice. warmth flooded her despite the wintry bite of wind, and she pushed against him harder. Her muzzle tilted just the slightest bit so one more word could slip lose. “...please...” |
Replies:
- 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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