i went to a sermon it made me livid... they called me a lamb to be protected by the Lord they're fools i am no lamb i am THE BEAST THAT EATS THEM and i see no Lord among you

    The wind was not so bitter, here, where sheer pillars broke its power as it swept in from the sea. Shattered into a multitude of eddies, the lashing air swirled across the beach, whipping sand as it went. Though the chill was not so great as it had been on the peak, the sheer fury of the salt-laden winds was far more humbling. It was difficult to brace against a battering that came in random from all sides. Even more so when soft loose substrate was all there was to be had for traction. The clinging of black grains to white fur were clear signs of the beast having fallen prey to the air and earth, and more than once. To think... once the gem of the Wind god had lain at the breast. Humiliating.
    Still, this was for a purpose. Multiple. To practice endurance and regain the condition lost. To explore and avail oneself of terrain peculiarities that could prove useful in the future. So much strength had gone from the thick limbs. So much dexterity disappeared from the feathered paws. The past several days had been spent pacing the beach, uncaring of how the alabaster pelt stood out as a beacon against the dark sand, stretching tendon and ligament. When the weather began to turn turbulent, exercise was taken back up. Muscles were swelling, fine motor control returning.
    Ears were turned back, eyes narrowed, to keep grit from entering, as she moved with determination across the shoreline. The pace was slow, but only to match the struggle with exertion. This was no easy feat, even for a stolid creature as this. Yet she reveled in it. Basked in the burning of lung from rapid breaths. The sting of silt as it scoured the hide. The so many interesting nooks and crannies that were seen and noted. Then there was the yawning black hole beneath one of the pillars set closer to shore. Oh, how interesting. How compelling. So she made progress, aching and snail-ish progress, toward it.

339 words | @Calhoun
open to any of the pirate crew who wanna show, too!

Trade: Barbarian
exercise to gain strength
1/2 action posts

Trade: Outlaw
explore a new territory and find something useful
1/2 action posts

From a distance, Calhoun has seen her. He's been lounging upon a sizeable boulder for some time now, the remnants of a prior meal half dangling off the edge -- only held in place by idle claws that don't much care anymore if the wind ends up taking it away. He hasn't been noticed yet, or else is being ignored for the pale woman's current task, which isn't an unfamiliar display of training -- honing skills. He shifts slightly, his other forepaw lifted and upturned so that he can lazily clean the remainder of his prey from between his claws, though his level gaze trails the lioness as she paces up and down the blackened shoreline. She fights with purpose against the strong winds, which whip through the russet tresses of the dragon's mane, plastering the strands to his cheek. A particularly strong gust wrenches the carcass from his grasp, and Calhoun watches it fall with some curiosity and little concern until it lands with a soft thud below him. He hasn't yet decided if he's going to bother the monochrome woman on purpose, though at some point, he'll have to relinquish his perch and cross her path to make his way to the island in the distance. For now, he remains a little longer, idly hoping the winds might subside a bit before he has to plunge into already frigid waters. @Devil May Cry

image by koafox, code by koi

An object in motion stays in motion, and old habits are hard to break. These adages both are true for her existence- they are why she is on her way south so soon after deeming the Cay to be the place that she'll regularly lay her head. For now she cannot make herself call it home, and as such won't miss it if she camps out somewhere else for a few days. Those Galloways seemed nice enough, but she knows everyone does until you peel back a few layers.

Ordinarily she would have dragged Melusine along with her, but she'd left the lioness to decide whether she wanted to bother following or not. Usually this meant that they'd eventually reconvene somewhere close to where they had parted ways- Hydra tried to take no longer than a week on her own before backtracking. Wondering how much of this place she could see in that time, the woman starts by following the beach back the way she has come.

On entry of Amaryllis, she'd noticed the scent of prides further south, and, being the intensely curious creature that she is, she figures a look-see wouldn't hurt nothin'. It's on her way there that she spies @Devil May Cry on the shore up ahead, and her pace slows as she watches it. From this distance, it's hard to distinguish what color it is, exactly. Black as the sands, the limbs of the thing bury into the sand as it steps, the face a color similar while the torso is.. was it gray?

Paws sinking softly into compacted sand, Hydra continues her walk where the tides touch land, foamy rush filling the pawprints left behind her. A cold swirl between her toes is preferrable to the lazy woman, as it means the ground beneath her is harder, less of a challenge to traverse. Let the other (from this angle, upwind, she cannot tell if the figure is male or female) enjoy her exercise, the merle decides.

Not intending to interrupt, the merle doesn't attempt to intercept the other, simply continuing forward instead on those long legs. Their passing parallel to one another is inevitable if they both continue this same pace toward each other. Hydra isn't exactly being nosy but she doesn't shy from glancing curiously toward the oncoming stranger, ears high and tail relaxed as it floats a scant few inches over the sand behind her.

As of yet, she has not noticed @Calhoun resting further up the shore, away from the spray of the waves, he closer even (off to her side, in danger of being passed right on by if he doesn't speak up) than the one that has captured her attention.

code by corvus

i went to a sermon it made me livid... they called me a lamb to be protected by the Lord they're fools i am no lamb i am THE BEAST THAT EATS THEM and i see no Lord among you

    Muscles burned with exertion. Tendons quivered with pull. Lungs pumped air to fuel the body, and if glands had been part of the genetic makeup of the feline, this one would be dripping even in the wind. Instead, cooling was achieved through a slack jaw and sucked air into the throat. On exhalation, the breath condensed into steam that jetted from the mouth. A testament to the immense heat generated by the work this one was doing. The ripping and tearing of tissue so that it may bind back together twice as strong. The action of struggle, especially one undertaken with such will and eagerness, soothed the beast within. As energy was spent, so did the inner savage slow its yanking at its chains.
    Focus had been trained on fighting the gale and traversing the black beach toward the hole beneath one of the pillars ahead. It was diverted when a thump reached the ears. Reaction, immediate, was to halt and turn the head--ears perked, breath halted in temporary--toward the source of the sound. At the base of a ledge lay a carcass of some kind, its flesh rent asunder and organs half-missing. The head could be missing either by angle of view, or by intent of the killer--impossible to say, right now. Electric gaze traveled the logical path opposite gravity, and spied the male resting atop the rock. Interesting that one thing had been seen as useful in this land, only to find another more.
    There was but a moment to decide whether the lion posed a threat--all males did, this one knew, by default, it was only a matter of how immediate a threat--as the subtle shift of sand drew attention back to the beach. Another feline tread the beach, passing between this one and the water. Trapping this one between the male and this female. Danger! Violence! War! The creature inside roared and clashed its chains against its prison with such strength that an echo of its cry left the throat in a deep growl. Ambush! Offense! Fight! Never again would this one be subject to the whims of others. It would rend all capability from its foes before that could happen.
    The male, while perched above, had a sheer advantage. To move away from the ledge so that weight could not be brought down upon would be necessary. The female was the closer threat. More easily reached. To do so would have the pleasant effect of keeping this one out of immediate range of the male. So, without warning or sound beyond the twisting of paws on grit, the obsidian and alabaster creature unleashed its beast and swept across the beach in a silent rush. The space between the two bodies was unknown--just that it would be far enough to prevent a leap from the male--and was closed with such speed as could be mustered against the wind and loose sediment. Jaws opened wide, fangs aimed to attempt a savage slash at the female's facing shoulder; An endeavor, not guaranteed but tried nonetheless, to force the opposing lioness to flee from both the suddenness and ferocity.
    Yet ears were turned back, listening where the eyes could not watch, for any hint of movement from the larger danger. Legs were not engaged with the would-be opponent so that they were free to allow a quick-turn should the male come down from his perch. It was clear that attention was divided, uneven, and tilted toward the true worry, but that did not stop the desire to see blood. Offense was to best suit a defense. Violence was to best find safety. And she would not fall prey again.

610 words | @Calhoun, @Hydra

Trade: Barbarian
exercise to gain strength
2/2 action posts

Trade: Outlaw
explore a new territory and find something useful
2/2 action posts

---

Devil May Cry vs. Hydra
for gtfo don't try to surround me D< (dominance)
round 1/3

Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 20 + 13 + 3 + 8 + 2 + 14 + 19

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 15 + 9 + 20 + 10 + 19

Luck:

Rolling 5d20: 8 + 4 + 15 + 5 + 12

So close to the crash of waves, the titan doesn't hear what the other does, the soft thump as a body hits the sand. All Hydra perceives as the distance whittles away between the pair is that the other's head very suddenly snaps to the side, looking in the direction away from herself. Momentarily she is confused (is she being ignored??), but as her own bi-colored eyes lift from the figure in an effort to find a potential source of interest, everything begins to move rather quickly.

Perched atop a boulder of great size (it had to be, for the lion atop she knows is at least just as large as she) rests the Captain. It's hard not to recognize him, inky and serious, scales shimmering where the sun touches them. @Calhoun is spared only a brief glance before Hydra's eyes flitter back to the feline that now lingers in the space between the two pirates. Just in time her gaze is on the other- as the monochrome's attention swings back onto her, a baritone growl seeps toward her and a quiet "oh" slips out as her lips part in surprise.

"Oi!" she hollers, yelps as her large limbs tighten, a swift gait change enacted to bring her casual walk up to a high-kneed trot. "I ain'," but she gets no further before the dark-limbed lion is launching toward her, a streak of fury flinging sand behind it. Hydra, for what it's worth, is in fact a coward, but she'll never admit it. Instead she insists that fighting isn't always necessary, and that some injuries are better off avoided than suffered through. This rationale sends her forward, spurs in her side that increase her own pace as her attacker closes in.

Quite literally tucking her tail, the lionesses ears pin and her lips quiver as she shrieks "ain't even done nothin' to ya!" over her shoulder. Certainly she is not made for speed, and unfortunately for her teeth catch her skin despite the attempt at a full dodge. They scour her hip rather than her shoulder, slicing perpendicularly to her natural markings there, momentum cutting them through flesh rather than allowing them to grasp her. Continue she does to skitter forward with flighty steps, another cry of "stop bein' so damn mean!" floating from her as she tries to recreate the distance that she would've been fine keeping between them.

ooc: Hydra is attempting to escape. If her roll fails, feel free to have her trip/stumble/otherwise not make it out of DMC's grasp. If DMC continues to attack, Hydra's next post will be her round 2 of a fight, her round 1 being surrendered for this escape attempt. If Hydra successfully escapes, keep in mind that (unless she is further attacked or chased) she will slow down after creating distance and turn half-way ("c" curve of her spine) to try to talk to DMC.

Escape Attempt #1:

Rolling 1d10: 7

code by corvus

i went to a sermon it made me livid... they called me a lamb to be protected by the Lord they're fools i am no lamb i am THE BEAST THAT EATS THEM and i see no Lord among you

    The tactic worked. Even before the raging bull had come within reach of the merle lioness, she had been trying to flee. The words given were lost in the wind and aggressive rage. This creature was unhearing, uncaring, only wanting to see its enemies in front of it. The chase was begun, then it was ended. Thick limbs stiffened to bring the bulk to a halt, snarled muzzled flecked with dots of blood from the contact. A further glare was given to warn the lioness not to attempt to surround this one again. Then attention was turned back toward the male, where it belonged.
    Steps were taken to put the sea at the back, the perched lion at the fore. There was no escape, now. Only furious offense. To turn the back was to invite the man to do what men inevitably did, and no penis-waving bastard would ever touch this one again. So she dropped her weight down and back, resting upon the coils of her hind limbs. Claws gripped at the sediment as daggers, prepared to flash out at any moment. Ears flattened out into horns. And a low growl of challenge rumbled across the gale-whipped divide.
    Come and get me.

203 words | @Hydra, @Calhoun