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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Once Upon A DREAM
IP: 68.62.100.132

Stormy Horizion was broken, battered, and exhausted. Something within her had shattered when Aindreas changed, leaving her alone, alone, alone. And that is how she found herself when she had drug her pitifully emaciated physique directly into the mighty king Kershov and his lands. The massive white warrior let a guttural ROAR rupture from his lips, and suddenly, Stormy Horizion felt a pressure on her bladder that was almost impossible to resist. The lass may have been absolutely petrified but she would NOT disgrace herself further by peeing! Literally shaking in her boots the petite thunderstorm painted marionette managed to peer up at Kershov, grey lashes quivering under his obsidian stare. The girl stammered and stuttered through a hollow sentence, squeezing out the words with a whimper and a crackle, and then, she waited, breath held, while this massive ivory dragon decided if he would eat her for stumbling across his border, or not.

As the mighty gladiator took in Stormy’s pitiful existence, he no doubt noted her thinning fur, the dull glaze that washed over her eyes, despite the panic that was evident within them, and the blood racing through her veins at this very second. Kershov with no doubt observed that you could count each and every rib locked carefully within Stormy Horizion’s torso, and he absolutely could not have missed the sharp indent that left her pitiful spine exposed and sharp, shiny hip bones that threaten to thrust through thinly stretched skin. Skinny legs wobble under the strain of holding up her anorexic physique. If Kershov noticed anythingabout her, it would be that Stormy looked absolutely terrible.

It was while the mountainous carnivore scrutinized every inch of the thundercloud girl’s pathetic existence, that something within him changed, and Kershov shifted, relaxing slightly, and explaining to Stormy, that blossom forest, had changed but how? what sort of sorcery could possibly be so strong, so embedded within the ground that it could change the makeup of the very earth. It was as Stormy was pondering this, gears within her mind turning very slowly, trying to grasp onto the words Kershov was spoon feeding to her, that he offered her a tour. “b-b- I-i- mean.. i-.. I couldnt!” she finally exclaims, tail flickering uncertain. “I... you...you didnt... I’m tresspassing!” she gasps. “You should have skinned me on the spot” the girl laments mournfully, wondering listlessly if that would have really been so bad? If Kershov ending her life was really such a horrid idea. She was just starting to warm up to the thought, when the wind bristles softly, and the feathers on Kershov’s back catch her weary eyes.

Stormy gasps in shock, leaping straight up and backwards, legs stiffening in disbelief and sending her right back into a stupor. Blubbering and stammering all over the place “d-do you-you.. have f-f-feath-FEATHERS!?” she finally spits out, cursing to tor under her breath. Was she hallucinating? had the fragile pieces of her mind finally degraded to the point of collapse? If Stormy Horizion at some point had stopped trembling during their exchange, she had certainly started again with violence, but not in fear of Kershov, but in terror of the fearsome trick her broken mind must be playing on her. She had heard of others having delusions, of becoming sick and seeing things that did not exist, things that ought never exist, but never did Stormy dream in her life, that her lack of self care would lead to a complete breakdown. Never had she imagined something of the sorts would, or even COULD, happen to her.

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