Vindico

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<center><link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Cantata+One' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'><div style="background: #030303 url('http://i.imgur.com/OWf28vy.png') no-repeat top; width: 500px;"><div style="padding-right: 25px; padding-left: 25px; padding-top: 650px; padding-bottom: 10px; font-family: 'Cantata One', 'Georgia' serif; text-align:justify; font-size:10px; color: #6d1327"><font style="font-size:50pt; line-height:10px;">T</font>he taste of bitter sweet frost, chilled and constant, such was the taint of a dying world. It was discomforting to realize just how immense that change was, the lose of their beloved sun. No more heat, no more protection from the dangers of the night, both living and the dead. They lingered, marring the borders of the great depths, ominous shadows that crept ever closer. Should their kind survive, should the mountain remain a pinnacle of life, the divine war above would need to cease. It was a sour outlook on the celestial being he held, very since childhood, something that only festered in light of recent events.
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Yet first, necessity called forth the ranks form the pitiful protection offered by the barren cathedrals and echoing halls. Each had suffered, each baring wounds of the hardship these past months had scored. The cold was a vicious beast, stealing strength with a silent dagger, cutting away at each wolf until they were gaunt, morbid ghosts of what formerly was. <font style="color:#eee3c7;"><b>"Andurïl,"</b></font> he mused in return to the pale king, an abrupt proclamation in return to his own greeting. Dark days stole the words from him, and the normally quiet man seemed even more reclusive.
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The plan was set, the bell tolled, and the ravenous instinct brewed forth. Primordial silver set upon the distant heard, a draw that came from the hidden darkness of the mind, in black matter hidden away behind propriety and culture. He could smell their sweat, their pain and hunger. It hung upon the creatures like a dampened clothe, the pale burnished bodies huddled together in attempts to conserve warmth as fruitless search reached for a sign of flora beneath the snow. Ghosts, wraiths amongst the trees. He paid little heed to the whispered beseeching of Israfel, the subtle draw on a furthering alliance. Something in him, the part that was yet untrusting, was leery on the potential of a permanent association. There were some instances he felt the masses should remain separate, for though an added comfort could be found in the dark of night, once the realization of their dire circumstance came to light, desperation set in. Things once steady and true broke down to the most basic of commands in mortal flesh and blood.
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A soft caress of feathers had Andurïl drawing away from Caracara, his gilded gauntlets slipping through the ankle deep snow as he edged along the border of the wood. Fog curled like living things about the gnarled trunks, faded shadows shifting in the peripherals. He was far more familiar with the crowded halls of the woodlands, the heavy darkness of Silvis a remerging companion, and though the branches here were high and bare, he clambered up the ten foot pillar to balance himself upon on such reaching arm. A crimson shower painted the edge of the tree, and from above he could spot the herd, Warg eyes seeing that which could not be seen.
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Note: gimpy post to keep the shizz moving ^^
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                      <center><div style="border-bottom: 2px solid #c5c5c5 ; border-top: 2px solid #c5c5c5 ; padding-top: 8px;"><font style="font-family:Ruthie; font-size: 80px; font-style: none; text-transform: none; color: #c5c5c5; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #000000, 0px 0px 30px #ffffff; line-height: 100px; float: bottom; ">Citlali Deerheart</font></div>
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<p>Time to fly, time to touch the sky
One voice alone
A haunting cry</DIV>

<font style=" font-size: 15px; font-style: italic; font-variant: none; text-transform: none; text-shadow: 0px 0px 9px #000000;">When the next</font> member of their hunting party arrived, she momentarily mistook him for a ghost or a snow spirit, with his pale coloring. A sniff of the air proved that he was very much mortal, however, and she watched as he approached to greet her leader and the stranger, giving him a name. He carried the scent of other wolves, and she guessed that he must be one of their new allies. The red wolf that had been present at their last pack meeting was there too, and Citlali didn't miss the moment of closeness between Cara and he. She glanced around, suddenly missing Indian. As the rest of their group arrived, she took a moment to sit back and have herself a good scratch, watching a few scraps of silver fur float away into the darkness, carried by the wind. She rarely gave any thought to her seasonal shedding, but now she wondered what effect, if any, this eternal winter night would have on her internal clock. Would she keep her winter coat, or find herself shedding it's protective layers for her thinner summer fur? She'd barely be able to leave the caverns at all if that happened.

The queen began to speak, laying down their game plan. Citlali nodded, then stood up and shook the snow off before moving to sit beside her teammates. As always, Robin's Avelorn-scent made her tense briefly, but she was beginning to overcome her old ingrained fears. He seemed as timid as she, which helped as well. <font style=" color: #a1cbde; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #ffffff;">"How are you holding up, Robin?"</font> she asked the youngster. This winter had been hard on all of them.

Only now did the white wolf speak to her, his direct use of her name surprising her, as did the fact that he apparently knew of her already. <font style=" color: #a1cbde; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #ffffff;">"O-oh? Well, it's, ah, nice to meet you too."</font> Though she was growing calmer around the familiar faces of her pack, strangers were still a source of anxiety, ally or not. She couldn't help but notice that he did not look directly at her, and wondered if he had vision problems. The pink tinge on his face, where his fur was thinner, suggested albinism. She had heard that such a mutation often brought a set of problems all its own, including bad eyes. He spoke to Cara as well, and Citlali blinked, momentarily confused, the understanding. This man was to be her mentor, then. As glad as she was to finally begin her training proper, the suddenness of it jarred her. She owned nothing but for her scarf and saddlebags, which were already with her, but she would have at least liked to say goodbye to Indian before she went.

Nevertheless, it was not in Citlali to speak against a higher-ranking wolf. She stood up again as Israfel moved off, heading into the shadows of the forest. The deer tracks were still there, but growing fainter by the minute as the wind smoothed the snow over. They needed to get going if they were going to eat.

                                           <center><font style=" color: #a1cbde; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px #ffffff;">"May I speak?"</font></div>

<DIV style="text-align: CENTER; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8px; text-transform: uppercase; color: #ffffff; text-shadow: 0px 0px 20px #ffffff; letter-spacing: 7px; line-height: 12px;">One song, one star burning bright
Let it carry me
Through darkest night</DIV>
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<center>CODE BY CHIP | ART BY FIFTYBLACKROSES
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@Caracara @Andurïl @Israfel @Paradise @sidrue @Robin
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Naturally Si'drue would stand respectably at his kings side, awaiting for the rest to show so that Cara could announce the hunt. As they waited, little tension lingered in the air and it would seem the two packs were getting on rather nicely. Rather quickly the numbers would build, the majority showing were from Caelum, though that was expected seeing as they had greater numbers as a whole. The orange brute would keep his guard up, not yet feeling fully comfortable around these strangers even with the peace between them. As the pack hunt was finally announced Cara would split the wolves into two groups. He would nod in agreement and understanding before quickly following beside Israfel. They needed to get into position quickly and quietly. Sid often wondered how skilled his king was in the arts of hunting with ought sight, how difficult he must have found it alone. The large brute would crouch, bracing himself for the perfect opportunity to attack. All the while he would keep tabs on the second group, watching how they move and when they make there attack. They all had to stay united.

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It wouldn't take long for them all to gather in, the size of the group wasn't that large, but enough to catch at least two prey for them all to feast on. She was eager to begin, waiting for instructions from Caracara of Israfel. She would stay close to her pack mates where she felt most comfortable, however she was quickly becoming at ease to the strangers before her. It seemed they only wanted peace during this hard time and she had no reason to make things more difficult. As her sister would decide the group was large enough, she would announce the hunt and put everyone into two groups. Paradise would simply nod in agreement, the best strategy was to come from both sides. Deciding not to waste any more time, Paradise would begin to move just as Israfel and Si'drue did, going in the opposite direction quickly yet quietly. she presumed caracara would follow after Para and Andruil. Paradise would quickly set in place further up from Andruil, waiting for someone to spook the prey into her direction.

<font style="color: #262836; font-variant: small-caps;"><b>"Speech."</b></font> <font style="color: #F6F6F7;"><em>Thoughts.</em></font></div></div>
They were all in agreement. But first, extra formalities. Of course. A smile would lift her lips, she would be more than happy to send Citlali. Her gaze would travel briefly to the woman, gesturing with a tip of her crown that this was going to be her mentor. The Queen would set off, with her party in tow, trusting that the others could manage themselves. She skirted out, hopping through the snow. She clung to the shadow, falling into the position she needed.
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She struck with precision, lurching from the shadows with teeth bared and wings folded tight. Moving like a streak of colors across the snow, she began the hunt, sending the herd into a flurry of panic. Jaws snapped as she aimed low, seeking a hold on the leg of her target, wanting to trip the creature to send it tumbling to its inevitably to its death. She focused solely in on prey, allowing it to consume her as they worked as a team, bringing down their targets to fill their bellies.
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@Israfel @Paradise @andruil @Citlali @Robin
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