Anyone and everyone welcome 
Just if you're not a wolf Soran knows or a member of CD the old girl might be a bit nervous, just as a warning . Set on October the 13th. WC: 888
The nights were drawing in far more quickly now that the autumn had come, long gone were the lazy evenings when not a single star could be seen until late into the night, at nine or ten in the evening, long gone were the hazy nights, watching the sun set, the warmth of the air around you being a little stifling. Now the cool of autumn had taken hold of the lands, a chilled breeze was blowing through the lands, rattling at the slightly open windows of the large manor house; whistling through the increasingly bare branches of the surrounding trees. The evening itself was clear as clear could be, suggesting that the night itself would be a cold one, but for now the night had only just fallen, the sun having finally given up it's battle with the horizon, being out of sight now, the sky was an inky blue colour, not quite the true black of night yet. Stars were visible in the sky tonight, tiny pinpricks of light hanging in the velvety canvas of the sky, the night was lit by the large full moon that hung lazily in the sky, being slow moving and fat. The house itself cast a long shadow across the grass as the moon steadily rose to its true, high position. The land seemed sleepy tonight, there seemed to be no animals gathering food in the last of the evening's light, nor were there any calls from the owls that were waking to hunt, all around the land was still and silent, save for the whistling of the wind and the creaking of the old wood of the house. A dark figure sat on the porch of the house this evening, gazing up from under the eaves at the night sky high above her. Soran had been sat here for a while, just staring into the sky, lost in deep thoughts; on one side she had found that her former pale mate wanted her still, that she returned the love that the sable female had for her, this was more joyful to the dark Aedile than she could explain; on the other side lay the war, the treachery of Aniwaya, the capture of Cambria, her granddaughter's mate, the attempted kidnapping of Robin, her patchwork great granddaughter, this filled the sable female with incredible amounts of fury. The conflicting emotions had been wandering through the ebony female's mind all day, she could not bear the idea of her young granddaughter being unhappy, she had lost her mother to the Aniwayans and now she had lost her mate, Soran hated to know that she was in pain, she wanted to tear the world apart to make her happy once again.
The truth was that she would be unable to do that for a long time, her arm rested in a makeshift sling that she had created earlier in the day, it was rudimentery, being made from a torn bedsheet, but it was sufficing for now. Soran had sustained the stab wound to her left arm only a few days before, when she had marched down to Aniwaya to look for weaknesses, planning to enter the lands and reclaim the young girl who her granddaughter so loved. This plan had been scrapped though as she watched the large male that had kidnapped Anu try to kidnap her own great granddaughter, the small patchwork girl wriggling and screaming in his arms; the sable female had been incandescent with rage, filled with ire and a firey poison that not many of her pack mates would have known existed within her, a battle had been waged and Soran's own knife had been turned against her, being plunged deep into her upper arm, the agony had been indescribable. Had it not been for Scarlett, Robin's companion, a large mare, they might not have gotten away with their lives, she had been the one to fight the male off in the end, to finish the fight, then the three had run; Soran had lost a lot of blood that day, but Robin had been returned home safely and that was all that had mattered to the ebony matriarch. It had not occured to the dark female how much work her left hand had done until moving her arm had become painful, her mane had had to remain loose today, the curls and waves falling about her shoulders, she had not been able to play her flute either; at least she had the knowledge that the wound would heal in the end, the muscle had been damaged, but Haven had bandaged her up before she had left Cour Des Miracles and although the sable female herself was no healer, she could sew. The wound now had a row of wobbling stitches in it, they would help it to heal she was sure, it was covered in a bandage and her arm was in the sling, she believed that she was doing the best possible thing she could for it. She dared not shift into a form that required four legs though for fear of putting too much pressure on the healing leg, but she would be there when the reckoning day came for the psychotic leader of Aniwaya and his creul grey henchman, oh yes, she would be there.
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