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  Archive Notice
Posted by: Forum Guardian - 6 hours ago - No Replies

Due to Elysium’s inactivity and lack of reply from the current alpha(s), this pack will be archived in two weeks - unless someone steps forward to lead the pack.

If you have any questions, please feel free to contact any online Guardian.

- The Moderation Team

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  Archive Notice
Posted by: Forum Guardian - 6 hours ago - No Replies

Due to Soleil’s inactivity and lack of reply from the current alpha(s), this pack will be archived in two weeks - unless someone steps forward to lead the pack.

If you have any questions, please feel free to contact any online Guardian.

- The Moderation Team

Continue reading..

  One of Us [House Recruitment]
Posted by: Garrison - 10 hours ago - No Replies

  Karma and Crux. A slave, and a false bond, aiming for a rank equal to his own. A bitch, and a boy. Not enough. Lotus was supposed to be his. Tovelo, too, but now they're both gone before he could claim them. If Garrison sees either of those two again, he'll make them regret ever leaving Oukoku-Kai. After all, he is a Slaver, as well as a Shogun.

  The Fringe dire stands in the depth of the Valley, overlooking the river. It roils with the rainy season, kicking up at its edges and the thick arctic fur between the Officer's toes. He snarls at the wetness, then throws his head back, and howls.

  Two is not enough. He feels cheated for those two missing females, and there is an excess of Bondless in the Valley. Worthless. He can make something of those.

  Garrison stands proud on the crest of the cliff, thick and proud, pale eyes and mighty jaws awaiting whoever may arrive. "Garrison," he introduces himself, taking in the faces and frowning at most of them, "Officer, Slaver, and Shogun. I have two bonds. Who thinks they deserve to be the third?"

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  Observer [Open]
Posted by: Vance - 10 hours ago - No Replies

He sits, staring towards the inner rings, but his back not far from the border, mechanics and rosters in his head. Generally, he would hide himself away under brush or thick shade, drenched in mud, but he is clean, for once, marks unmistakable to anyone aware of the Tribe. Fortunately, it doesn't seem anyone left is.
Tricolour eyes don't shift, despite who comes to join him. "Sindarin is missing," he admits, like to say as much is a curse. It has been days, and her own siblings have not seen the girl. He hasn't seen her parents, either. "North, Nero, I assume the rest of the brood is with them. I suppose that leaves me, as far as Kestrels go."
Finally, Kitkun shifts his scrutiny to any that have arrived. "Call me Vance. Who have you lost?"

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  high hopes gone cold
Posted by: ifyla - 10 hours ago - No Replies

Her name was Ifyla, she was at least sure of that. All facts beside that, she had no idea. She didn't know her history, her location, how she got there--none of it. She felt like a newborn just recently named, except she knew it had been a long time since she had been born. As the fogginess of her mind began to fade, she discovered another fact: her head hurt like hell. Groaning softly under her breath, the Ethiopian wolf put her shaking legs under her body and lifted herself up, studying her surroundings with careful goldenrod eyes.

She was in a field of pale, yellowish stalks of grass. It was high enough to reach her hackles, and she looked at it in distaste when she discovered it found all the best places to rub her pelt the wrong way. She yawned, then stretched herself to relieve the tension in her tingling limbs. The sun shown on her immaculately groomed rust-orange pelt, especially when she shook any debris from it. Snapping her jaw a few times simply to feel the click of her teeth as they collided, Ifyla eyed the blue sky above her.

The sky was a deep blue, fading slightly toward the horizon on all sides of her. The sun shone brightly, a beacon of yellowish-white blinding light. Averting her eyes from the ball of fire, Ifyla once again observed the field she was in. Gently, slopes rose and fell on occasion disrupting the otherwise monotonous field of tall grass. Deciding that she wanted to see what else her new location had to offer, the female broke into a quick trot, the grass parting around her as she traveled through the field in search of something, anything that might give her a clue as to who she was or where she was.

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  how can you stand to be here with it all? [anglachel]
Posted by: Haylyn. - Yesterday, 12:33:59 PM - No Replies

ooc: weird time structure on this, but this is set after wheatley's death and before her thread with cappella, so that span of 3-4 days in between.
@ilunga




[Image: __f2u_crystal_page_decor___by_lleafeons-daeoikc.png]


[Image: lavender_pixel_by_viverrinae-dasj6kh.png]
#8da399

In the evening hours, as the sun bled it's last bit of light and the day shifted into the ever creeping dusk, the crickets would begin to chirp and the cries of a mother could be heard. The warm night air ushering from the den she'd rather call a prison. Paws brushing blades of grass and she'd soar to him, her boy.

A billion dozen twinkling lights lit up the deep indigo sky, and the woman's pale eyes caught sight of them. Wondering if he rested among them now, but no, his body now belonged to the earth, a hard thing to come to terms with. A sharp pain blossoming in her chest and Haylyn did her best to stave off the tears that wanted so desperately to cascade down her cheeks.

She reach the garden, now significantly cleaner than it had been the day she found him. All the herbs were back in their rightful places, growing and healing. How she wished that could be her. Everything so pristine and clean, like nothing had ever happened. Life moved on without him, and it wasn't fair. Why would you want to be here? He's here. What do you ever see here? His memory. That doesn’t make you feel worse than you do? She cracked, just barely and a tear slipped down her silvery cheek.

Containing a sob, the mother press onward. Blue eyes staring at the now empty den where her boy had spent his final moments. In the low light of night, it was peaceful, quiet. With only the sound of the crickets, and the glow of the fireflies to keep her company. The broken woman moved forward again, a paw gliding over the grass. He was here, this was where he was. As if she was reliving it all over again. Her breath hitched in her chest and her body shook with a tremor of a sob. "Mama loves you, s-she loves you so much." Claws digging into dirt and the sobs hit one after the other. "I'm so sorry, Mama's so sorry, my sweet baby." Things she'd never get to say to ever again. Let these cries be a lullaby.


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  Trouble at Wakanda (Semi-Private)
Posted by: Pawprint - Yesterday, 12:46:30 AM - Replies (1)

(Yes, I took the title mainly from the Lego Black Panther special.  Pups can also post--Beatrice is older, but as a runt's child she isn't much bigger.  She can't talk, as you'll soon see.  Please let Sekirei post first.)

Beatrice sniffed the ground furiously.  She studied the purple leaves that fell, daring to taste them and yuck!  Purple is yucky!  How did the wolves of Inaria live with yucky trees?  How were they not sick?  It was confusing.  This required questions.  But she still couldn’t wolf speak.  She could bark and whine, but not use, well, words.

A mouse popped out a hole under a root.  Beatrice beamed at the sight of the creature.  The mouse felt very differently.  But before it could run away, Beatrice began to speak.

*Ee!  E!  E!  E!  Squeak squeak*

The mouse paused.  Beatrice lowered to the ground.  It was thinking: did the meat eater say, Hi how are you?

Beatrice repeated her squeaks.  The mouse faced her.  It…squeaked back.  Beatrice tried keeping her excitement down.  She didn’t want to scare it.  It could understand her!  The mice could speak just like in Nardir!  So she worked to speak every word she learned back home.  And the mouse entertained her, though it was still nervous.  It was sure this could all be a trick.

To anyone viewing this, this scene looked most likely ridiculous.  To Beatrice, this is regular.

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  Highway Robbery
Posted by: Blythe - Yesterday, 12:35:44 AM - Replies (2)

There was no mistaken that she was damn close to a border, the scent markings were unmistakeable.  The over exaggerated placement of the scents, and the obvious scattering of prey animals away from those scents made it abundantly clear.  However, there was one critter that didn't seem a bit phased by these scent markings, dirt brown eyes followed the little coyote as it snuck past the border to grab an oblivious piece of prey.  Something worthless to Blythe, but she new that to the pack it belonged to, this would be considered stealing, and would most likely be frowned upon.  

Watching carefully, the coyote was too proud of his catch to notice the lumbering form of the much larger wolf waiting in the shadows, and when the coyote was too busy being proud of his catch, Blythe rushed out, grabbing the coyote by its head, it dropped its prey and began snapping at anything it could to get away, whining and growling, and yelping, making quite the scene.  Blythe was stronger and larger then the weak coyote, and promptly shoved its face into the dirt.  While it was not her prerogative to kill the coyote for stealing, she could hold it there for the time being until the proper authorities arrived to give the varmint a proper trial.  It was squirming and yelping, doing whatever it could to get away under the massive jaws that were wrapped around its face.  Blythe placed one of her massive paws on the back of its neck, and lifted her head from the coyotes face, whispering a threat to it, "You better hush now honey- or I'll give ya something real to scream about, ya hear?"  

With that threat, the coyotes cries silenced, and were replaced by pleas for mercy. 

But Blythe wasn't the authority around here, nor was she the sheriff.  But she could do a citizens arrest for the time being, waiting at the border for an actual sheriff to arrive, or hell, even a local deputy or someone who lived in this place.  Either would work, she'd just hand em off to the local authority and plead her case to the judge, or what have you.  

When someone did finally come along, they'd find her standing over the coyote, paw shoving its head into the dirt, the rest of its body wriggling to get free.  Dirt brown eyes would meet the stranger, and dipped her head as if she wore a cowboy hat, "Evening friend, I caught this varmint tryin' to steal some a yer food and ya know, that ain't right, or lawful, so I held him here for ya ta give him a trial you deemed fittin'." 

Usually stealing was a death sentence in any pack, but, Blythe didn't know the laws here so it was best to leave it up to the stranger and his packs laws.  If it had been up to her, she woulda snapped the dammed things neck already, but- again, gotta leave it to the local authorities.  

It was the civil thing to do after all.

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  runs in the family
Posted by: Kastra - June 19, 2018, 11:17:45 PM - Replies (1)


[Image: nRus6E7.png]
    Everyone else in the pack seemed to rejoice in the fact they were in their old territory. It was home, they had been birthed here and raised here. Kastra hadn’t though. He felt a disconnection from the happiness of others, instead feeling the sadness and longing fo the Nardir he had known. This may have been the original, but Nardir had changed and he had been born in the changes. He knew they were going to a new place once they left Nardir, but it didn’t stop him from mourning where he had called home. He had grown up there, came out of the closet there, buried Bulan there, last seen all his siblings there. Now his family was fractured, and he couldn’t do anything about it. If there were further up family members buried here, he barely felt anything for them. He hadn’t known them. He couldn’t mourn or understand someone he never knew.

    Mercury had changed the ranks, and had placed him into the rank of crafting. Kastra wasn’t sure he understood how the new guilds worked, but he wanted to work with it. It had been a change going from a border guard rank to crafting. He had decided to try and learn some, on his own. Even if he was no longer a warrior, he still felt it in his blood. He had tried crafting a spear of sort, like the humans usually had. It was small, shitty, and probably wouldn’t work if he tried to use it, but it was a start. The stone wasn’t sharp enough to pierce anything, and he figured out that it was pointless for a wolf to try and carry a spear in its mouth. He had fashioned his first spear head into a necklace instead. Now he had been collecting what rocks he could, trying to think of something to do. He could make little necklaces for the healers like Kestrel had, to help carry herbs. It would probably be a simple project, and it would be useful to the pack.

    Kastra found himself beside a lake, carrying a small bag on his sides that they had used for traveling. When it was no longer needed he had taken it, putting in items that he thought might be useful for crafting. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure what he was doing. Beside the lake he tried to find smooth stones, slowly putting the weight into the pouches. The boy wadded into the shallows, trying to let the dirt and sand underneath settle so he could view what was under the water. This seemed like a good idea, to him. In his mind he was mourning those who had gone missing from the older Nardir. Kestrel was gone, and Puffin had left to start a dog pack. Part of him wondered if he should have gone with the dog, or maybe followed his brother or mother or father. He had been born into this pack, had grown up with everyone, yet for some reason he now felt like an outsider.

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  True Path - an AU My Hero Academia roleplay
Posted by: epsi - June 19, 2018, 08:42:23 PM - No Replies

[Image: hQgohHl.png]
 

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