.Peace washed over the Lands many wounds healed, and many hearts opened, and many flames were kindled. All over the lands in all the Faiths pairs of lovers slipped off to their dens. A few months later a noise stirs in that hollow hole in the earth and a new Father comes to the door of the den smiling down at his family, His mate and his children. All over pups were being born, most in litters of 5 with few tragic deaths. Pups born to all faiths, and all positions within. Fretta, Bandar, and Legato all bore pups this cycle and with most of those births a future ruler was born.
As quiet and quaint as this scene seems to be still in the backs of all’s minds was the slight chance that another feud or even worse a true war or battle would breakout and their pups would be caught in the middle of it. This notion was kept hush, hush their the new parents of the lands, but a whisper can still be heard and this little idea was still kept tucked away in these wolves’ minds.
Along with the beginning of many new lives, new life was also given to those who were scarred in battle or in life. Emotional scars and fears were being handled and healed with the quiet serenity that seemed to lay idle of the Lands.

.But what goes up must come down.

The darks are gaining followers but this time there are two leaders. Both Critic and Shadowfoot are leading the forces of the dark wolves and they are forever gaining strength. With the gaining of the dark fath, comes the gaining of mistrust and mistrust leads to betrayal. The wolves are fighting amongst themselves, and greed is spreading throughout Aiela. This new age is an age of tricking and deciet. New battles are sure to spring out of the maddness.

How long shall I tarnish the mirror of life, A spatter of rust on its polished steel! The seasons reel Like a goaded wheel. Half-numb, half-maddened, my days are strife. The night is sliding towards the dawn, And upturned hills crouch at autumn's knees.
A torn moon flees Through the hemlock trees, The hours have gnawed it to feed their spawn. Pursuing and jeering the misshapen thing A rabble of clouds flares out of the east. Like dogs unleashed After a beast, sky, an outflung string.
The moon drops into the silver day As waking out of her swoon she comes. I hear the drums Of millenniums Beating the mornings I still must stay. The years I must watch go in and out, While I build with water, and dig in air, And the trumpets blare Hollow despair, The shuddering trumpets of utter rout.
Whence have I come? What would be home? I hear no answer. I am afraid! I crave to be lost like a wind-blown flame. Pushed into nothingness by a breath, And quench in a wreath Of engulfing death This fight for a God, or this devil's game.
~Amy Lowell

|| 1024.x.768 pixel resolution required for proper viewing of layout ||
|| intermedaite - advanced wolf Role Playing Game ||
|| unique and involving story and plotlines built by the players ||
|| active owners and players for the best Role Play experience ||
|| six wolf packs not counting loner bands within three major faiths and two higher ||
|| currently over 122 characters and 28 players grace our boards and pages ||
|| one owner and four co-owners keep this place in tip-top shape ||
|| your were referred by _____ ||

let the games begin
[opens new window]

URL: http://www.oocities.org/shantie_lacey/home.html