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?"

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FROZEN MASS GRAVE [frekari]
IP: 71.213.59.118
Posted on December 18, 2017 at 03:37:45 PM by KERSHOV

“Madame Frekari? Your presence is required at the beach.”

Kershov had stalked to the saucy maned wolf’s den early in the morning—so early that the sun was still a lurid red promise trickling up the deep blue horizon, its rays barely kissing the distant mountains. The Ice King himself resembled some sort of shipwrecked ghost; immaculate ivory fur tinged with stormy greys and sleepy periwinkle, his pelt mussed and messy from the salt that found its way into his robes. His claws kissed the very edges of her den’s entrance, as if he’d step in and wake her with a touch or heated whisper . . . but instead it was his serious lyrics, spoken at a normal volume, that would push the kalak from sleep. If she opened those dreamy chocolate eyes, she’d see the hard obsidian gaze of her ruler peering down at her before he pivoted and marched toward the ocean, his banner waving proudly behind him. Today they’d start her training. Today, Frekari would see just how far Kershov would push her for the sake of making her stronger.

Many paths led down to the beach, some more direct than others. Kershov chose one walkway worn into a steep cliff face; it appeared deceptively dangerous from the outside, but to a resident of Uyaraut the path was perfectly safe, cutting a meandering diagonal down toward the sand. The tide was just now going out; the beach gleamed like glass in every direction, still wet from the waves pulling back toward the ocean. Ker could almost make out his reflection in the soft velvety texture pressed under his paws. Ears swiveling back, he listened for Frekari’s approach; once he caught the sound of her delicate feet pressing into the smooth water-washed land, he craned his neck to look at her over his shoulder. “The ocean is the tamest around this time,” the Ice King explained, gesturing out toward the endless expanse glimmering before them. The sunrise painted the foaming crests pink and orange—as if the sea had transformed into beautiful fire. “We shouldn’t have to worry about any dangerous currents or uninvited guests.”

Ker spoke of the sharks often sighted from Uyaraut’s beaches, their fins slicing lazily through the water. He had no plans of taking Frekari that deep; today was their first training session, after all. He offered her a small smirk, tilting his head in an almost playful matter. “Before we begin, I need you to swear that you’re serious about this. I will not intentionally put you in danger, nor will I push you beyond what I believe you are capable of. But once we start, there are no breaks. There is no backing down. I don’t have the patience to deal with someone uninterested in her own improvement. Do I make myself clear?”


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