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?"

Refresh/Reload

::B.e.l.l.a.d.o.n.n.a::
IP: 65.29.75.36

She was used to the flood of emotions that ran through her every moment of every day. It was only normal to feel such an array, after all, she was but a mortal. But Athene was trained well enough to be able to hide most of those emotions behind her armor, her mask… But she had not been prepared for this. She had not been prepared to wake up in a rage, her blood boiling. It had been a mixture of noise and scent that had alerted her to his presence, or at least to someone’s presence. She was a light sleeper anyway, so that no one could catch her unawares, and though she had told noone where her den was, anyone who had training worth a rat‘s ass would be able to track her to it if they tried hard enough. Disorientation held a firm grip on her consciousness as she opened her lids and tried to focus in the darkness, but instinctively, her hackles were already straightened to full height, her lips unsheathing their swords. But still she had no idea why it was rage in particular that struck her at this moment. She was not particularly upset about being woken up, she would fall back asleep easily enough… But then a certain realization came over her of, first, who had found her den, and then the fact that he was already coated with the most intimate perfume of another lady. And she knew it did not belong to Kari, that slut idiot, but to a stranger. First, he had allowed that Milo creature to enter in as a guest, and now this odd one? Athene could not possibly realize that… That the reason she was upset was not because there were strangers within the territory, but because there were strangers making themselves at home in Kershov‘s bed. She did not notice, or perhaps she did not realize, the tinge of jealousy that was threaded throughout the rage, tainting it darker and more volatile.

But the real question was why was Kershov now here, in the middle of the night, after sending his whore home? Despite the fact that it was still Kershov at her den, Athene started a low growl, a warning that she was in no mood to be trifled with. Alpha or not, there were rules… And if not rules, then courtesies. But he called to her after a few tense moments of silence, with a proposition. Their previous relationship, or rather not relationship… Their previous interaction had been an interview of sorts. She had wanted to know whether Kershov was up to the task of delivering his seed to her. And in true physical form, he was excellent specimen to be the father of her pups - his warrior‘s physique complemented her as well, and would provide strong, able-bodied offspring who would be fit to withstand the Trial well. Her rumbling vocals quieted, and she rose to her paws, shaking out her pelt, loosening the silt and salt that had settled there during her slumber. What he proposed now was to make good on the promise that the two had made to each other - that he would share her bed once more, and that he would provide her with pups. In return, she would thrill him with her delectable wares once more. Athene was still hesitant - she had no desire to be his sloppy seconds after a tumble with another femme… But then she shook her head. If she had no emotions for him, no feelings, then why should she mind? After all, others would no doubt take note of the same things that she had. And with the end of winter swiftly coming by, he was surely to be a prime specimen for those still seeking to have a litter planted within their womb. And Athene had to admit - she was not getting any younger. How many winters, how many breeding seasons had she passed by without a single mate giving her offspring? Briefly, her mind flickered to that of her to deceased pups, the ones that she had aborted. Wasn’t it time to replace them? Wasn’t it time to start her own legacy?

She hesitated, but for only a moment. Athene‘s desire for pups, and her more deeply hidden desire for Kershov himself, won out in this instant. The next instant had her pushing through her indecision and nearing the mouth of her den. His body was blocking it, blocking the way out, but she had no desire to go out. Instead, she reached out to him and inhaled sharply, tasting the other lady upon him. She snorted and crinkled her nares in displeasure, all the while staring at him. She stood there for a moment, with the same look up on her face, but once her point was made, she reached out and grabbed onto his scruff, tugging slightly. Her teeth remained on his flesh for only an instant, before she was retreating within her den, inviting him inside. She would not ask who the other lass was - she would not stoop to that level, would not to be petty, would not be controlling, would definitely fucking not be jealous. She would not ask why he suddenly had so much fire within his loins. She would not ask why he had sought her out, now of all times. Instead, she would silently accept him into her den and onto her back. She would accept his proposition without a word of sass, would swallow his sword whole within her own delicate depths willingly… And she would use all of her wiles during the whole process. She would push herself to the limits, run her stamina dry, all to reach a level of exhaustion that would drown out and hide the bit of hurt that had settled at the tip of her heart. Had she not decided never to care for another after Pierce? Zev had been a mistake, but Pierce had been an exception to the rule. She was supposed to have chosen her mate, be it temporary or permanent, for logical reasons and not emotional ones. But Pierce had fit for both reasons… But it had wounded her to deeply to watch him leave, to watch him love another other than her. And why was she suddenly focused on this? Why was she drowning in memories even as Kershov neared her, his musk and cologne and sex all overwhelming her, and she was thinking of her ex… And silently she thought of the young wolf she had seen only a few days prior… Sabelle. Pierce‘s daughter. The daughter that Athene had never had…

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