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

BLACK.WIDOW.SPIDER
IP: 65.29.75.36


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There was no logic nor kindness in his explanation - it was as if he blamed her completely and utterly for what had happened to their darling daughter Missandei. The words he spewed at Macaria were hateful, painful, ignorant and arrogant. It was like he expected her to be able to read minds, to figure things out by just simply looking at the body of their daughter what had killed her right off the bat. It did not make sense, but then again, nothing that was happening right now made sense at all. After all, her daughter was gone... forever. And so Macaria took a step closer to the corpse of her daughter and peered at it. There was blood pouring out of her neck, or at least, at some point blood had poured from her neck… And what she saw there scared and scarred her - two puncture wounds right over the jugular. A bite mark. A vampire bite mark. As if stung, she reared back and recoiled backwards, scrambling away from her daughter. Incredulously, her gaze flickered between her daughter and her mate - she knew hardly anything about their kind… Or rather, about her kind, only that which she had learned from her own experiences. Thackery had been her maker, her Sweoster, and he had not exactly stuck around to teach her the ropes. He hadn’t stuck around at all. In emotional agony, Macaria had then tried to go to Grey Wind for comfort, and that was when he had pulled away from her. Macaria’s whimpered, opened her maw and allowed it to hang agape for a second, cocking her head before realization hit her and she tightly clenched it shut.

The hackles on her back raised, furious. She was finally seeing clearly exactly what was going on, and it wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right. And Macaria was not going to stand idly by silently. The old version of herself would have. The old version of herself would have said nothing, taken the tongue lashing and the blame while cowering in a corner, pitiful, weak. But not the new Macaria. She had been reborn, stronger, wiser, confident for once. And she was not going to allow her mate to bully her, to pin this death on her. Her teeth gnashed together as she tried to hold the words back, only because she knew that what he was saying, was from pain. Or rather, she hoped it was from pain. That this was not truly how he felt… But only time would tell her if this accusation, silent and not spoken but strongly implied, would hold true. But at last her anger toppled over the rim of the cup.

You blame all vampires for killing our daughter simply because a single vampire killed her. Meaning that you blame me? The way you were rambling with your rhetoric, it sounds an awful lot like you hate vampires. Meaning that you hate me? Let me tell you something, Grey Wind. If you are going to play this stupid, ridiculous game of ‘pass the blame’, then use the proper version of the transverse property of equality in your statements. Why am I a vampire? Go ahead, think about it, really. I am a vampire because I was dying while giving birth to the pups you put in my body. I pushed too hard because I could not feel anything. Now, why could I not feeling anything Grey? Because I had taken an insane amounts of poppy, become addicted to the plant, because of the fear I had lived with for months, the pain you had inflicted on me every single day was too much for me to bear. And why were you inflicting pain on me? Oh, that’s right, you took an innocent teenage girl from her homeland, and tricked her. She tried to help you, heal you, and instead you forced her to be your prisoner. And so I was… Your prisoner. Beaten, injured, driven to the addiction to an analgesic chemical. Then I apparently had the wrong sense to ever fall in love with you, and then you decided to impregnate me, and whilst giving birth to your pups, I almost died. So let us change any one of those events, and we would not be here today. I would also not be your mate. And we would have no offspring. So which of the outcomes would you prefer? That you did not steal me away, thus allowing your own wounds to fester and rot and kill you by the slow death of sepsis? That you would have treated me kindly instead of harshly, thus never turning me into who I am now? Never falling in love with me? Never fucking me and causing me to bear the wonderful children that we had together? Or perhaps you just wish that I was fucking dead, that I had died while giving birth to our pups. Do you think you could have raised them as well as on your own as well as we did together?

She snorted, snarling at him, snapping at the air in front of her. As she spoke, her words had gotten louder and louder, and tears had rolled down her face in anger and pain and confusion and hurt. She watched as he crawled to lay next to their dead daughter, she heard him whisper - ‘how did this happen?’ But she merely shook her head, and snorted. “How did this happen? That had been my question, and you had responded with anger. Well here is the logical explanation - our daughter was killed by some asshole vampire. Not me. And you can slump about wallowing here, or you can go and figure out who killed our daughter and kill them. Put the blame on whoever is actually responsible, and not your mate who, by the way, is also in a great deal of pain. Thank you for making it worse, go fuck yourself Grey Wind. And stop being an ass.” Before he could say anything else, whether it be an apology or more anger, she turned and fled from their den, but not out the mouth of the cavern - no, she went through the back, knowing that no one would be able to track her upon the hard rock floors of the labyrinth of twisting caves. She did not want to be found, not right now. All she wanted to do was to erase the pain she felt in her heart… And there was only one tried-and-true method she knew for letting it all go - her darling poppy…

WC 1372

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||Macaria||Uyaraut Adlartok||Vampiress||Grey Wind||


Table Credit to Morgin <3




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