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Description
a new avatar (cause the old one sucks) and, I needed an eye for the adcast banner.

A black wolf. with yellow eyes. there was nothing strange about that. In the thriving age of werewolves, people han't completely discovered them, and they could a mass in the nearby forsets: picking off livestock an leaving the people scratching their heads. Shadow was a quiet wolf, with a sly predatory look in his eyes, and often a smug smile on his face. He had the kind of personality where he could capture any dialouge, ensnare it, an throw it back at it's origin in a rather dry way. It made the other wolves wonder, for he acted more like a proud cat with the way he spoke and held himself. It's hard to describe shadow without using an oxymoron, but he had an air of arrogant wisdom, that seemed regal, around him. But the other wolves respected him, and lowered they're heads in his presence, because he was brother, to RunningWolfSpirit: the first werewolf, and fouder to all others. He was treated like a god, from the other wolves.

But, though this is all very well, shaow was so young, he hadn't been assigned the two other parts of his name. He had an important part to play in downfall of the lychanthrope.

The period after this, was known as "the blood ages" for it was impossible to go into a wooded area and not see carcases and crimson tide splattered among the trees. The humans had finnally realized that silver can weaken and kill a werewolf. in this period of 20 years, 85 % of the werewolf population was wiped out, an the great runningwolfspirit had succumbed to the poison. As he lay on his deathbed, he called his brother to his side.

"brother, I have not long for this world. My brethoren have already been bested. Only you remain without toxic iron in your blood. You must protect the spirits of our fallen comrades. for in their spirits, lie memories of a once great tim-" RWS coughed most hoarsly: showering the leaves and unergrowth with a fine mist of crimson.
"I sense that other sprits need refuge as well. you must be their guardian. We are the ruler of man, and beast, the form that blurs the line of feral and domestic, hostile, and civil. Only we can understand their pain, the ravages they have wandered through the war ridden mist that surrounds our world. the plants weep of it: our voices sing of it, but only you, can listen of it."
RunningWolfSpirit's eyes began to grow dull: as if he was watching something ever so delicate float away from him.
"but brother, I'm afraid I don't understand."
Mustering his last bit of strength, RWS grabbed the side of shadow's face, raking three clas down from the rim of his eye. Shadow screeches as firey pain tore through his muscles, blazing up through his skin: searing tatoos into his flesh and fur. everywhere ached, an glowing blue tatoos riddled his entire body, his claws had also grown luminescent. He opened his eyes. The claw marks from RWS's slash had formed into tatoos, and now lay under both of his eyes. His eyes began to grow duller, and they faded to a pine green, and slowly turning through the spectrum, stayed a fiery Cyan.

"I dub thee, DyingBlackShadow. Live this life well, and protect those pure spirits who seek shelter, guardian, of the Auras, live long....live long...liv...lo..." RunningWolfSpirit's voice began to ebb, and took on the sound and feel of waves lapping the beach sand, slowly, rythimically, becoming softer and softer, slower and slower, quiter and quiter, until they faded into nothingness.
The lights left his eyes, sprouting invisible wings that left with his spirit, and flew up into the sky. Spirit's body quickly decomposed, in a matter of a minute,, and his body formed a mature swamp weeping willow. It's roots laced an tunneled through the ground, sprouting up new shoots that reached for the heavens, an grew as fast as an elapsed time clip. Seeds flew off the mother tree, and quickly formed more saplings wich grew equally as fast. The braches grew up, and twirled around eachother, interacing in an untraceable tangle. The branches wove so tightly, that the sun was blotted from the ground, which was quickly filling with eternally clear ponds of slightly luminescent water. after a day, the new swamo had reached 300 miles in all directions. AS the swamp's growth slowly halted, DyingBlackShadow felt something new, something different. Wisdom and knowledge flowed through his veins, ridding themselves of any arrogance or smug demenor. He was semi immortal. He would never die of old age, bu he could be killed by other means besides natural ones I am here to watch over those who have left the living. My holding ensures the world's balance as a keep these comets that fly though my wood, I am a guardian of the Aura.

Description
a new avatar (cause the old one sucks) and, I needed an eye for the adcast banner.

A black wolf. with yellow eyes. there was nothing strange about that. In the thriving age of werewolves, people han't completely discovered them, and they could a mass in the nearby forsets: picking off livestock an leaving the people scratching their heads. Shadow was a quiet wolf, with a sly predatory look in his eyes, and often a smug smile on his face. He had the kind of personality where he could capture any dialouge, ensnare it, an throw it back at it's origin in a rather dry way. It made the other wolves wonder, for he acted more like a proud cat with the way he spoke and held himself. It's hard to describe shadow without using an oxymoron, but he had an air of arrogant wisdom, that seemed regal, around him. But the other wolves respected him, and lowered they're heads in his presence, because he was brother, to RunningWolfSpirit: the first werewolf, and fouder to all others. He was treated like a god, from the other wolves.

But, though this is all very well, shaow was so young, he hadn't been assigned the two other parts of his name. He had an important part to play in downfall of the lychanthrope.

The period after this, was known as "the blood ages" for it was impossible to go into a wooded area and not see carcases and crimson tide splattered among the trees. The humans had finnally realized that silver can weaken and kill a werewolf. in this period of 20 years, 85 % of the werewolf population was wiped out, an the great runningwolfspirit had succumbed to the poison. As he lay on his deathbed, he called his brother to his side.

"brother, I have not long for this world. My brethoren have already been bested. Only you remain without toxic iron in your blood. You must protect the spirits of our fallen comrades. for in their spirits, lie memories of a once great tim-" RWS coughed most hoarsly: showering the leaves and unergrowth with a fine mist of crimson.
"I sense that other sprits need refuge as well. you must be their guardian. We are the ruler of man, and beast, the form that blurs the line of feral and domestic, hostile, and civil. Only we can understand their pain, the ravages they have wandered through the war ridden mist that surrounds our world. the plants weep of it: our voices sing of it, but only you, can listen of it."
RunningWolfSpirit's eyes began to grow dull: as if he was watching something ever so delicate float away from him.
"but brother, I'm afraid I don't understand."
Mustering his last bit of strength, RWS grabbed the side of shadow's face, raking three clas down from the rim of his eye. Shadow screeches as firey pain tore through his muscles, blazing up through his skin: searing tatoos into his flesh and fur. everywhere ached, an glowing blue tatoos riddled his entire body, his claws had also grown luminescent. He opened his eyes. The claw marks from RWS's slash had formed into tatoos, and now lay under both of his eyes. His eyes began to grow duller, and they faded to a pine green, and slowly turning through the spectrum, stayed a fiery Cyan.

"I dub thee, DyingBlackShadow. Live this life well, and protect those pure spirits who seek shelter, guardian, of the Auras, live long....live long...liv...lo..." RunningWolfSpirit's voice began to ebb, and took on the sound and feel of waves lapping the beach sand, slowly, rythimically, becoming softer and softer, slower and slower, quiter and quiter, until they faded into nothingness.
The lights left his eyes, sprouting invisible wings that left with his spirit, and flew up into the sky. Spirit's body quickly decomposed, in a matter of a minute,, and his body formed a mature swamp weeping willow. It's roots laced an tunneled through the ground, sprouting up new shoots that reached for the heavens, an grew as fast as an elapsed time clip. Seeds flew off the mother tree, and quickly formed more saplings wich grew equally as fast. The braches grew up, and twirled around eachother, interacing in an untraceable tangle. The branches wove so tightly, that the sun was blotted from the ground, which was quickly filling with eternally clear ponds of slightly luminescent water. after a day, the new swamo had reached 300 miles in all directions. AS the swamp's growth slowly halted, DyingBlackShadow felt something new, something different. Wisdom and knowledge flowed through his veins, ridding themselves of any arrogance or smug demenor. He was semi immortal. He would never die of old age, bu he could be killed by other means besides natural ones I am here to watch over those who have left the living. My holding ensures the world's balance as a keep these comets that fly though my wood, I am a guardian of the Aura.