Malignant Felicity is a paradisaical abode to the faithful remains of a mighty pack. Once ruled by the magnificent wolf Genocide, now the wolves of this pack follow the laws of the Alpha Lance, son of Sorna, Beta and Genocide's best friend...

The sounds of crashing water fill your auds as you enter this tropical paradise. The tall trunks tower above you. The treetop canopy's seem to shade the beautiful land from the sun's rays. What a paradise this place seems. This place dubbed Malignant Felicity. As you draw closer to the boarders a stench slowly devours the air around you. The stench of death.

"Beware..." scream the birds from above you. "She kills for games. She kills for fun." Something deep inside tells you to listen. Your body tells you not to go no further. Do you listen or do you dare move into the pack borders. This could be a life or death decision...

Follow the Queen, or become a corpse that lines her border. The choice lies with you.

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LAUGH CHILDREN
IP: 35.20.215.5


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ALL HAIL THE QUEEN.


This border reeks of masculine entitlement, and the copper tang of blood, and I approach mildly, among thickening shadows. I know what I see. Testosterone exudes from the muscled bod of a supposed challenger, but I cannot muster the fury to rip out his throat. His unintelligence is shocking. I am tired of this madness, this cat and mouse chase of the dominant for the throne. He is such a capable wolf, with so much promise. Why does he think leadership constantly eludes him? You supposed pack creature that soils the borders of his intended with the blood of its members. You will never lead. A man does not slit the throat of the one he intends to marry.

You pounce, and there is a sickening moment where I feel it is finally time for me to intervene. I set my blood to boiling, feeling the wiry tense in my muscles that anticipate collision. I am running towards you at the borders, and Kira is in my mind and in my heart. She lightens my leaden paws. This is what it means to be a leader. I am not angry. I am cold. I am the Queen; I am her mother, her guardian, her fixed stone gargoyle silently scaring away her demons. I am absent and present, the conscience of a dead land come to preserve its integrity at long last.


But Romulus erupts out of nowhere and that is fine, that is honestly wonderful. I slow, watching him leap at this offender, on lithe limbs traditional to his breed. A poet, he speaks in declarative tones, and I cannot help a soft chuckle at his vocabulary. The children are all grown up. I have missed it, the whole thing. One cannot expect much more significant transformation than the first time they hear the stoic, pained one in their pack use the word “dick.” I cannot approve of a more appropriate time.

I walk up, my collar ruffled though at ease, a soldier told by her corporal to relax the stiff arm of respect. I have already passed the test. My paws send me towards Kira, nosing at her, seeking to analyze her condition. All the while I wait for you to confront me, with those blood red eyes that I have not yet seen fully, but when I do will convince me once more that you are no wolf. Your unbridled instinct, your callousness, your cockiness, they destroy before they build. Tell me you want my pack. Tell me you will kill for it. Fill my head with your lustful desires for control, authority, females, power.

I won’t believe you until you’re willing to die for it.


(ooc: I want all in this thread to know that after Kira’s response, all talk of rape needs to end. This violates site policy, and I’m not comfortable with it being insinuated on this page. I respect realism less so than the range of ages that encounter this site and am wary of them being exposed prematurely to these concepts. I hope you guys can see where I’m coming from with this, and want to thank you for handling it professionally up to this point, and in moving forward.)



GOD SAVE THE QUEEN.





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