If you meet a Forest you'll think you're lucky, but be careful! he won't know what the hell he wants. He'll keep you on his hook, baiting you, then realizing he's not ready, and no matter if you or he initiates it, you'll walk away completely hurt. and he doesn't even understand that he did anything wrong. so be careful, he'll want what's best for you and him but not know what it is and bring you down while figuring it out. Forests should come with a warning sign. they're a lot to handle.
by 𝕤𝕩𝕙𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕤 February 1, 2022
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A less common term for cats from the main group in the Warrior Cat Franchise, the Clans. It is mainly used by kittypets, or house cats. They are described as more skilled, advanced, aggressive and bigger then most cats. Other terms: Clan Cats, wild cats, and warriors.
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Get the irish forest mug.This is a account from the book of the Wulfecks where they have stored their family hostory, the story is labeled The Blood Debt and is from 1813.
Deep in the Black Forest, the Wulfecks gathered under the iron chandelier, each sibling radiating venom. The Drakwyn clan demanded blood—a Wulfeck life to repay an ancient betrayal.
“Let’s give them Orin,” Thessira sneered, her dagger gouging the oak table. “He crawled back here like the worm he is. Let him squirm for them instead.”
“Charming,” Orin drawled, flipping a tarnished coin. “If wit could kill, you’d still be harmless.”
Valken slammed his fist into the table. “Enough! This isn’t about grudges. It’s survival.”
Calessa swirled her wine, a smirk curling her lips. “Weakest link, then. Any objections?”
“Besides you?” Orin quipped. Thessira’s dagger flew, embedding inches from his hand. He laughed darkly. “Relax, dear sister. I have a solution—a spell to make a doppelgänger. The Drakwyns get their life, and we stay whole.”
“What’s the catch?” Calessa’s voice dripped with disdain.
“It needs a willing sacrifice,” Orin hissed. “One life for all. Fair trade.”
Silence. Firelight flickered over their murderous glares. Valken’s knuckles whitened. “We don’t sacrifice our own.”
Calessa chuckled coldly. “How noble. Let’s see how long that lasts.”
The tension thickened, their hatred palpable. The blood debt loomed, and the Wulfecks stared each other down, venom and curses dripping with every breath.
Deep in the Black Forest, the Wulfecks gathered under the iron chandelier, each sibling radiating venom. The Drakwyn clan demanded blood—a Wulfeck life to repay an ancient betrayal.
“Let’s give them Orin,” Thessira sneered, her dagger gouging the oak table. “He crawled back here like the worm he is. Let him squirm for them instead.”
“Charming,” Orin drawled, flipping a tarnished coin. “If wit could kill, you’d still be harmless.”
Valken slammed his fist into the table. “Enough! This isn’t about grudges. It’s survival.”
Calessa swirled her wine, a smirk curling her lips. “Weakest link, then. Any objections?”
“Besides you?” Orin quipped. Thessira’s dagger flew, embedding inches from his hand. He laughed darkly. “Relax, dear sister. I have a solution—a spell to make a doppelgänger. The Drakwyns get their life, and we stay whole.”
“What’s the catch?” Calessa’s voice dripped with disdain.
“It needs a willing sacrifice,” Orin hissed. “One life for all. Fair trade.”
Silence. Firelight flickered over their murderous glares. Valken’s knuckles whitened. “We don’t sacrifice our own.”
Calessa chuckled coldly. “How noble. Let’s see how long that lasts.”
The tension thickened, their hatred palpable. The blood debt loomed, and the Wulfecks stared each other down, venom and curses dripping with every breath.
by Wulfeck Son November 26, 2024
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