aurora borealis- noun plural: An aurora that occurs in northern regions of the earth. Also called northern lights.

In the middle of a dense forest of coniferous trees lies the Aurora Borealis pack, its name coming from its location. At certain times of the year, the northern lights appear, dancing almost magically in the sky. A narrow trail leads you through the close evergreens. Giving into temptation, you begin moving your paws. By venturing into this territory, you are venturing into a land belonging to a pair of feared leaders. You have heard rumors of them...but you decide to take your chances and hope that the tales of blood and death are merely fabricated stories to scare wolves.

You have walked nearly five minutes before you realize the sound of paws stepping somewhere from behind. Deciding that you've made a mistake, you quickly turn around, but find that you cannot go any further. Standing before you is one of the mighty kings you've heard of. His blood red pelt clings over perfectly toned bands of muscle. But that isn't what causes such fear in your veins. One of his amber eyes has a horrid, bleeding scar across it, and his good eye seems to stare right through you. His face is expressionless, giving off none of his intentions. You cower away as his jaws part.

"I'm Hell Demon."

His voice was deep and cut through the air like a hot knife through butter. Right where he left off, another voice picks up from behind you. You whirl around and find yourself facing another male with steely muscles beneath his pelt, which seems to consist of every shade of brown. He had startled you, and you're amazed how you hadn't at all detected his approach.

"And I am Ghost...we're the alphas of Aurora Borealis."

His deep voice was laced thickly with a Native American accent. His own golden eyes are directing a harsh glare your way. Now you're caught in the middle...your breathing has become heavy in your panic and you're not sure which to face.

"You've foolishly trespassed into our territory. You face the one called Hell Demon's whose voice is once more addressing you. Get out, or become a corpse along our border."

It's obvious they mean business. So now it's up to you...take your chances and stay, or heed their warning and waste no time getting out with your life.

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Give Me FreedomORGive Me Death
IP: 71.181.73.83
Posted on October 4, 2018 at 01:09:20 PM by Qiturah

QIturah, once she aged, had spent most of her time outside of the confines of Dierne Hrof. It wasn’t that she felt that Dierne Hrof was confining per say, but more that the ideology and magic that throbbed so vehemently within it was. Her father had allowed her to be innocent and naïve and ignorant while she was a child, while she was just a ball of fluff, but in some ways she wished that he had prepared her for what had been waiting for her at her birthday. Qiturah’s body had defiled itself and warped painfully into something anew, something meant to be one thing – a warrior. Her pain had been so insane as to make her thing that she was going exactly that – insane. A scream had ripped from her maw for so long as to cause friction burns on her vocal cords as blood poured from every orifice, choking her, killing her, until nothing was left and even her irises left her. But the most terrifying moment had been when her heart stopped, or rather a second after, when she was still alive but was sure that she was going to die. Throughout the transformation, she had been wishing for death just so that her pain would cease… but when faced with the actual prospect of death, she pled silently to the gods even as consciousness left her. When her heart restarted with blood newly awakened with the power of her forebearers, she thought that it either had been a dream or that it had actually happened and that she was in heaven. Unfortunately for the lass, she had been alone during her transformation, suffering through it without anyone to tell her that she would be okay, that there would be some end to her pain. But the lucky part of it was that she had been by the lake’s edge on the southern border of Dierne Hrof, and readily had the reflective surface to see that her pelt was stained in half-dried blood and that from the pools in her skull radiated an electric blue color – so different from before.

Qiturah had quickly washed off, crying all the while, her tears stinging the surface of her eyes as they fell in large droplets and she ran home… only to find that her siblings Ziva and Asmund had gone through the same transformation. The three of them had been sat down and told of their heritage, of their transformation, and of what it meant to be a Tempest, specifically an Oferweder. They learned about the full truth of the Arcus Irae, for they had plenty of experience with them considering that Scamander was their adopted sibling, and they found out that they could never again touch him lest they be turned dark. They learned about their responsibility to the rainbows, and more than that, their eternal blood feud with the vampires. And then… then they learned about Soulmates. Her entire life was planned out for her, and she had no choices in it. She had no choice in who she would be sworn to protect for all of her life, and she was dutifully bound if necessary to lay down her life to her bonded Arcus Irae. Qiturah would have no choice who she loved, and more than that, she would have no choice about what she would do with her life. She was built and made to fight. And although ever since she was a pup she wanted to do only exactly that – to be a fighter, just like her daddy, it now left a dull, bitter, rancid taste in her mouth. Had she actually wanted to be a fighter, or had her genetics fooled her into that?

And so, since, she had spent her time outside of Dierne Hrof, hoping and praying that she would not run into any males. She did not want to find her soulmate – she simply did not want to know who she would be bonded to. But when her uncle called, she found her paws turning her around and heading her toward the center of the pack. This too, was chosen for her, but at least it was her choice – she could leave and choose another pack to belong to if need be, if she really wanted. But in her heart, she was not ready to abandon her family. Despite all of her independence, she was still a child at heart, hurt by the cage she was locked in, incessantly rattling the bars in the hopes of being released. Qiturah sighed as she arrived in the clearing, blinked a few times, and then looked about, hoping that there would be no males, and luckily the only ones were her own family. Relief flooded her and she trotted up to her father, rubbing against him before nodding to her uncle with a smile. “Hi Uncle Aindreas.” She smiled widely at him before turning toward the female near her, the little one she did not know. “I’m Qiturah, Vladimir is my dad. Who are you?”


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