It wasn’t hard to tell that the battle was wearing on the pale Noble. She could feel herself draining of energy- the blood loss getting to her. She felt dizzy at some movements, wanting to lay down rather than plan her next attack- but she didn’t have that option. Backing down would be her death, the only option she had was to win.

She wondered if Valhalla was getting tired like she was. He was larger than her - extremely so - was the fatigue getting to him? Would she get lucky and he would simply pass out? Part of her hoped so. Yet, it was the pound of pain against her skull that brought her back to focus. She had zoned out - not even relishing at the fact she brought a wound to his chin. Instead she felt herself retreat a few steps, the throbbing in her skull causing her movements to sway- wavering as the wave of dizziness increased. Her ear was ripped in the process- and Ismae sucked in a deep breath as she crouched low to the ground. “You’re worse than an elephant.” She grumbled under her breath as she glared to him, comparing him to the difficulty of hunting a large beast, before Ismae attempted to lunge off her hind legs, forelimbs extending in an attempt to hook around his neck, jaws aiming to try and grasp at the underside of his neck.

Ismae vs @Valhalla
for death
6 / 7

Hits:

Rolling 6d20: 19 + 12 + 4 + 16 + 20 + 13

Dodges:

Rolling 6d20: 15 + 3 + 14 + 18 + 11 + 9

text. "She speaks." 'She thinks.'

Art & Table code by Zodiac

They are battle crows and they flock to the sounds of war and violence, hungry to pluck what they could from carcasses of the fallen. He slunk along, following the music of bloodlust and pain, only to be distracted by the scent of one who had passed through before. @Siren's own delicate, deadly perfume alerted him to the trail she had taken, and he smiled softly as he stumbled upon it. Using her mud puddle, and then trailing her path he slunk along. He was surprisingly quiet, surprisingly subtle despite his massive size. You almost did not believe a predator his size could move so silently. And yet he ghosted along after his wife with nary more noise than she.

That is until he found the tree where she had gone to ground. Had climbed it to watch, his elegant vulture looming like a fetch, an omen of death above. He could not make it up there to join her so he simply used the same trunk to hide and watch, a muddy brown kink in the line of the tree. ""

The collision of skulls would happen and the Viking would hiss at the instant throbbing that came from it. What made it worth it was that he had successfully got a hold of her left ear, biting down hard before jerking his head to the side with it still in his grasp. But as she broke free and crouched low would Valhalla find the time to take a jump backward, causing for her attempt on trying to wrap front limbs around his neck once more to not land but instead for her claws to make contact to both of his shoulders. He could feel them rip into both thick mane and flesh, the wounds already on his one shoulder becoming fresh once again as they dig into bite wounds. His narrowed gaze would watch her with a burning stare. Her jaws would snap at the area right below his jaw, gripping and tearing out mane. “Did you think I would go down easily?!” His retort would come as a snarl, lips curling back to expose the bloodied fangs.

Valhalla would set himself into motion, lunging himself forward toward her. He would push off his hind legs like she did, extending both front legs toward her with claws unsheathed. He were attempting to drag his left paw down the right side of her neck and his right paw down the expanse of her left shoulder. His muscles stayed stayed and his tail continued to flail behind him to help in balance.

Valhalla vs. Ismae
for DEATH
06/07
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 20 + 4 + 9 + 6 + 7 + 5 + 12

Dodges:

Rolling 3d20: 17 + 1 + 8

table by sentinel / lion + cliffs

There is chaos, and where there is chaos Roarke is not far away. Not at the heart of it this time - that honour lands on Sangria’s head, apparently. All the same, there’s a surprising amount of displeasure radiating from the beast as he enters the scene. This is no ordinary fight, some squabble or dominance match - this is to the death. Something rarely seen in Roarke’s lifetime. Death is usually something reserved for the worst, for those crimes beyond comprehension. In his years, Roarke had delivered a killing blow once. What had this man done to bring down Sangria’s ire on him?

He won’t be getting answers from the sovereign yet, and so his gaze trails through the crowd - narrowing as they land on Ismae fighting to the death with another Oasis man. There’s shrieking, screams, other fights breaking out among the crowd for lesser things. The Bluffs king launches himself at the Mire ruler.

None of it bothers him as much as watching Sangria battle to the death - throwing Firnen’s safety into the fire with her life. There is little else he can do but exactly what he does next - regardless of the outcome of this fight, he will protect what he’s begrudgingly come to see as his.

“When this is over, Sangria, we are going to talk.”

Chaos erupted and among them, Ulla saw @Aquila and @Sangria, but also @Valhalla and an unknown female entangled in a vicious brawl to the death. The fur upon the northern woman's nape stood, excitement and tension confining her to her seat. She almost didn't notice @Gwyn, or the presence of her kinsmen here. Still, Ulla gave all who were near and known to her a nod of recognition, before she continued to watch. There was no need for her to draw herself into this. For it was not her time to shine, nor did Vellen whisper to her for blood. The four lions entangled in the death ring and the others currently fighting for other reasons sufficed. There as much talk between the onlookers that Ulla found it hard to pinpoint where she ought to listen.

ooc: my ass forgot if anyone talked to her directly so pls let me know and i'll edit this properly kthnx

code by corvus | image by rabbit

Maia had heard the commotion coming from the Rainforest as she stirred from her slumber. She'd been wrapped up in her den, warm and safely away from the chaos that was unfolding. It was the call - the call against @Kiton - which truly stirred her and forced the lioness to rise to her feet.

As she moved through the Mire territory, out to neutrality and then into the hostile Rainforest, she could feel her heart bounding in the depths of her chest. The sooty lioness longed for her paws to carry her faster, but it felt as though there were a thousand hours passing. Eventually, Maia arrived, and was initially taken aback by the sheer amount of lions that were here. She did not expect to see such a cluster, but was quick to realize that it was Sangria that was fighting for her life against the Oasis High Sovereign, Aquila. A sickening smirk crawls across her features at the thought of the colossal lioness losing her life in her own home.

But before the woman could admire the view some more, the Tolkien caught @Zoticus lunging towards his cousin. A growl erupted from her throat. "Kiton! She called, stepping forward through the crowd, enough to be near @Hanneth, @Dero and @Roan. Her ears pinned against her crown. "This cannot happen!" She hisses, calling out above the crowd. "The Bluffs are no better than the Rainforest. Full of traitors, liars and bastards." She spits, tail lashing to and fro behind her.

(Hell let's taaaag @Circe @Viné annnnd @WB!!)

TASKS: +5 - Observe a fight (Aquila vs Sangria).
+5 - Observe a fight (Valhalla vs Ismae).

His arrival is delayed. By the time he'd made it across Rainforest borders and into the centre of the fray, plenty of others - all of varied allegiance - had come crowding around. @Aquila and the woman he recognized as @Sangria (Zulema's cousin) were tearing chunks out of each other, and @Valhalla - no doubt in support of his King - was doing the very same to another Rainforest woman. He recognized @Ismae as the messenger that Avreya had sent to tell him of Kimagure's death all those months ago, and his brows furrowed momentarily as his attention settled on her. How times had changed. How different things could have, would have, been. Tearing his attention away from the scrum, he searched the audience for familiar faces; within moments he found the forms of @Úlla, @Ragna, @Saga, @Svana and @Steinar. They lingered near @Nymeria, and.... Helvítis skítur, he snarled, haggard and deep under his breath. He'd known of the tension between the Bluffs and the Mire, but the way @Zoticus and @Kiton flew at one another promised nothing but more problems.

And there he was - there the Hollows were - nestled cosily between the two of them.

A brief glance was afforded to @Circe - guarded by @Vine - before it focused on his kin. He noticed @Desdemona, almost at the last minute, and deliberately altered his route so that he may murmur words to her before passing on. Be careful. Tensions are high. He didn't really want her here, nor the injured Nadia, and certainly not any of his children. Thankfully, the calico was the only one he'd spotted so far. With a final glance in her direction - a silent invitation for her to follow, if she wished - he would then advance on the position of the rest of the Sigrún. Thankfully for his sanity, they'd all stuck together; it made it easier for him to address them all collectively. His words were quiet, and for them alone. Við grípum ekki inn á milli Bluffs og Mire. Zoticus og hans eru vinir Hollows, líkt og Kiton og Ecrosia. Nadia bróðir býr líka í Mire - ég vil ekki pirra mig á hvorri hliðinni, geri ég það skýrt? Við stöndum til hliðar og hlustum og lærum. He could tell them of how Hrefna was on the cusp of being promised to Lysander Hodari, but it did not seem appropriate; he would simply have to trust that his siblings and niece would understand and obey him, as their Jarl.

The girls had a deeper understanding of recent developments between the prides, so he would instead move closer and prioritise his brother. Steinar, Aquila - bronsmaðurinn - og Valhalla - röndótti - eru tengdir Valor fjölskyldunni og nánum bandamanni mínum Nymeria. Konurnar við hliðina á Nymeria, myrkrinu og röndóttu, stjórna Caladan Cove og eru einnig vinir fjölskyldunnar. Þeir eru líka öruggir frá okkur. He gestured, as subtly as he could, to the Vermedan High Sovereign. Straightening up, he would then address all of them again. All others are unaffiliated. We do not attack unprovoked, until I tell you otherwise. If someone attacks you, all bets are off. A lip curled then. He imagined his kin would like the sound of that. He would remain standing - feeling far too on edge to sit - and would deliberately shift to move closer to Nymeria. He glanced to @Morrigan and @Avaneira, nodding in greeting, before his attention shifted to settle on the Valour matriarch and her beau. I am sorry, Nymeria.

the finest fury is the most controlled

code by corvus

be kind always. suddenly, he cannot be a perch to their sidelines anymore. the deathly lurch of an angered king in exchange of words. it's too much. the calamity that follows is much more than he had ever bargained for. a reminder of the past, and something that is far too much to handle in the bleating moments of death and life. the world is frozen. stagnant beneath his very feet as it seems to roll past in a slowed motion. much like that of movie credits. each and every body that pushes and shoves amongst their death cries far more muffled than the last. he see's red, and feels the agony of those around them. when suddenly, he is back. the world spins around him as the forest floors metamorphosis unto that moggy bile of the mire. he is no longer present within a spiritual frame in the forest, but rather reliving a trauma from distant worlds past. it is all too vivid. too heinous to correct, as even though his lilac frame remains untouched in their present world - sole can feel the pressure of the lagoon bastards frame against his own. taunting almost in a way that left him helpless. his frame is collapsed. astral among the planes as the brute wafts throughout the distant seams of a memory, only being brought back to reality upon the cries of the mire hell-cat @Maia. traitor? bastard? is..is this what they truly thought of them? is this what he had to show for the loyalty of a man's pride? sole was no traitor, and no bastard for certain. or...was he? it is sub-conscious a movement that presses him throughout the crowd out of his own accord or will. strangling within the air that fogs over their death. his frame heavy and strong as he moves like a ghost to near the mire woman. "traitor" it's a murmur beneath his breath. as steel eyes narrow upon the woman. He was no bastard. it something that has awakened deep within him. the soul of a warrior - completely different from that sweet inkling that held fast to his heart. instead - this is a beast. ferocious and fueled by anger of the past. bastard. cupid. how dare she? how dare she imply that they were this? it isn't in his original intentions - but as battle forges and anger rises. the once passive child of maua finds himself letting anger boil over. it's time. he wastes no time figure bursting from the crowd with heavy intent. as the lilac superiors charges towards the gray wolf. maua forgive me for the crimes i am to commit today. for wolfrbon. for cupid. for arjana. for family. it is all that matters in these moments no matter how badly he had previously wished to become passive. he hopes to catch her off guard. to find some footing among the ground over her frame. sole would attempt to collide with @Maia's right side. his seldom purpose within his attempts is to potentially force his frame unto her to disbalance that of what is fickle and weak. if she should fall - he would have the upper hand. in this process, the brute would find a time to attempt to snap enlarged fangs towards maia's scruff. hoping to puncture the skin to bring further purchase to his take down. she would see today just how carefully they should tread with wolfbron. Sole vs. @Maia for Minor Maim Round 1 of 5 Hits: Rolling 5d20: 8 + 15 + 19 + 17 + 18 Dodges: Rolling 3d20: 17 + 7 + 14 **EDIT: Shark gave permission to edit so that text was readable!**

Perhaps it was ironic that he had joined Ecrosia Mire for the sole purpose of having somewhere to rest his head until he could get a pride for his family. The family that had come and gone, while he stubbornly remained. But that he had joined it and was consequentially loyal to the Hodari King but really, it wasn't until @Maia joined into the fray and was buried in combat with another that his blood truly bumped. Kiton he would have fought for but with Maia, it took no amount of moments to consider his actions. A male had come for her, quite a lot bigger than her so Jafar's blood boiled. Sets sight, nose working -- he spied his target.

Jafar wasted no time in crossing the distance and making a good show of a jaunt walk, all so that he could have direct line of sight on @Zaynab. They were stationed near to what he assumed were the leaders of the Bluffs which were clearly the enemy now, immediately Jafar rushed forward as fast as he could with his bulk in an attempt to bulldoze the woman. Opening his jaws up and leaning his head to the right, so as to attempt to bite the left side of her neck. War was here and he would fight, if only to impress and boast.

Jafar vs. Zaynab
for Minor Maim
1 of 3
Hits:

Rolling 7d20: 11 + 1 + 17 + 20 + 5 + 7 + 18

Dodges:

Rolling 5d20: 1 + 10 + 9 + 4 + 14

Too many things are happening and Feyre decides she doesn't like them. Not when she's seeing Sangria being attacked by a scary man. Not when there are so many adults standing here, literally swallowing her up. @Gostir's presence is welcoming, but he's not mama. Feyre wants to go home, but she cannot stand the sight of Sangria being bullied. She may only know the champagne lioness for a single moment, but Sangria had been nice to her. Against her best wishes, and that of Gostir, Feyre slips out from her guardian's hold and tries to go to where Sangria is. Back off you meanie! Stop bullying her! Her cubby voice is loud as it can go, but her emotions are tumbling 'round and 'round as her tail picks up and fur puffs out.

image by rabbit/nesla, code by koi