DRAGOS

The sun breaks over the horizon in the distance as Dragos arrives in this place, not yet sure of its name or significance, and not at all impressed by the looming mountains that open out into a sprawling land beyond. One at a time, the others had come, and Dragos is duty-bound to follow them, is he not?

Perhaps, but he’s here for other reasons. The fact that it suits him just fine is a bonus. His siblings will follow eventually, and getting a head-start on learning the lay of the land and all the kingdoms within is his main goal.

And so he continues on, pale paws carrying him further into the gateway.

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Luther was by far unimpressed with the rogues that he'd met at the passageway. If it wasn't for his relentless need to recruit every one of them in order to please his father, he would be far pickier.

Today, though, the strawberry shape of a mountain of a man was a welcome surprise. Now that guy was going to make a good addition to the cub-ridden Ecrosia. Women? Teenagers? What could they do besides hunt and wet their beds? Ah, yes. Forgive him. Hunt, wet their beds and be additional mouths to feed.

The pale Heir approaches the older man with a non-threatening posture, but confident nonetheless. His expression was a well-crafted friendly mask - and he calls out to the rogue from afar. "Hallo," the Starke-Rike greets, his cold light green eyes studying the stranger for any signs of aggression. "Welcome to Amaryllis. My name is Luther, Heir of a pride by the name of Ecrosia Mire. Are you looking for someone? Or perhaps a place to stay?" The words came easily to the yearling.

she's not quite content with going back empty-handed, not when she knows she could do better than be idyllic. morrigan won't be angered at fernweh's lack of success, but there's always something so disappointing about not being picked. perhaps she have held herself in too high of confidence and that alone seeped through to convince the rogues to choose another. or, perhaps, her lack of experience is too obvious. whatever it is, it weighs heavy on fernweh, that she's still here, wandering amongst the barrenness of the passage until she finds another rogue.

she closes her eyes for a moment, tiredness bleeding through every pore in her skin. it's not until the shadows shift that the phoenix sees a male, large in stature, with an eye-catching pelt. there's already another, younger pride lion there, introducing himself. without hesitation, fernweh walks toward them and chuffs at @Dragos and @Luther ♔. greetings she says, looking to them, to you. i am fernweh of illyria summit. my pride and i can help you with whatever you need, in return for your loyalty. no matter what, the greyfloods, and prides in general, value loyalty above all else. lions don't need to shed blood and kill, they only need to know they have someone backing them.

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He knew the scent.

He'd be nothing less of a fool to forget the scent of his family, let alone of his Nephew. The passage is foreign to him- his rank of Noble only newly won, fresh enough that he still wore some of the wounds from his battle. But he is eager to arrive, and the excitement to see his Nephew flows through his veins without any intent of being hidden. He does his best to study the landscape around him - taking it all in as he treks forward.

@Dragos ' scent grows strong, but so does the scent of others. His face furrows to a frown, and his large build arrives to see his Nephew in the company of two other people. Not on my watch. He would be damned if either of these pride members managed to convince his Nephew to join them. Chuffing, he lets himself be known while his gaze shifts to Dragos, a warm smile cross his face. "Dragos." He greets, walking past the two strangers and attempting to meet the strawberry boy head on, looking to bump his head against his shoulder. "You seem to catch the eye of many, eh?" He teases, attention poking back to the other two, chuckling under his breath. "I'm afraid his loyalty is his own- and not something to be bargained for." He responds to the woman, a small dislike for her choice of words. Dragos didn't owe anyone anything, and he doubted the boy would give his loyalty over for the mere price of aid. Turning his eyes back to him, he nods off in the direction he came. "The family has found a place to settle for now. I assume you heard your father's call?" Ah, his father... such rocky roads those were with Alexander and his relationship. Anthonius just tried to be the best Uncle he could be for the boy.

@Fernweh @Luther ♔

DRAGOS

Much to the Savante’s surprise, he isn’t entirely alone in this desolate place for long. As he steps inside, and warm sand begins to give way to grass and roots, a pale stranger approaches. At first Dragos assumes him a guard, a sentinel of the kingdom within, and he prepares to either talk his way past or perhaps fight - but it comes to neither. The stranger introduces himself, his rank and the name of his home. @Luther ♔ is young, barely an adult, but the heir of his home. In a year or two, he might be something impressive.

Dragos regards him, massive skull tilted at an angle, like that of a dog listening and focused. Despite his size, there’s not an ounce of aggression or tension in his frame; Dragos rarely holds his head high, or his posture anything but relaxed and casual, and this is no exception. A dark ear flicks absently amongst the off-white locks of his mane.

"Maybe," he drawls with a rough shrug of one brawny shoulder. "Would it matter to you if I was?" There’s something a little sharper in his emerald colored eyes when he asks that, but his expression remains placid.

And while they had been speaking, a lioness makes her approach with a soft, welcoming chuff. She introduces herself, and things quickly snap into place. This must be some entry point that prides come to collect the weary traveller, luring them into their kingdoms. Interesting.

Dragos’s gaze shifts from the boy to @Fernweh, and his expression lights up a fraction. She’s pretty, and he is weak for that sort of thing. "Hello," he hums pleasantly, "that’s very gracious of you… and your pride." He manages to keep the sarcasm out of his tone, but there’s something snarky in his grin when he flashes it her way with a wink. Before he can continue on, however, a third lion arrives. Dragos sighs, not hiding his displeasure when his uncle arrives and batters the competition away.

"Uncle," he greets, huffing, but in all fairness he is good-natured about it. "You’re ruining my fun." He’d been content to bother the young heir and flirt a little more with the Summit lioness, but he can’t imagine they’ll linger now that they know he is all but claimed by whatever place @Anthonius speaks of. "I heard the call." He goes on, lamenting. "The others are on their way. I wanted a head start."

Dragos casts a lingering look between the two other pride representatives. "Are we all to join the one pride?"

It’s no secret Dragos would rather eat his tail than live within hearing distance of his dear father.

coded by flea

Luther seems nonchalant, friendly in his approach. In truth he remained guarded, knowing full well that the disadvantage would be his should the older 7 much larger man try and strike at him. He was an egocentric bastard, but he was not reckless like his long-dead mother.

Perhaps that was why he was alive and she - dead.

A "maybe" spoken with a similar nonchalantness returns from @Dragos, and Luther's reservations for the man fade if only slightly. That is, until the following question that was spoken with a slight edge. He refrains from giving the rogue his actual thoughts and instead speaks in the same calm tone he'd maintained since the beginning. "Perhaps," he pauses, emulating the strawberry lion. "I could be of service." Such an unusual word to describe the Mire Heir. Maybe that's why he used it - he knew well that his true self was not somebody who would be useful in the recruitment process.

The chuff of another striped vulture catches his attention. And here they come. The lioness bore the scent of Illyria, a newly risen pride that the boy knew little of, save for the fact the Mire stood on neutral basis with them. @Fernweh speaks her part, one which she'd probably said a thousand times by now. The exhaustion around her eyes hung heavy and it was difficult to miss. Another advantage for Luther besides the fact she was a woman. His mind was sharper, for the Heir hardly missed out on sleep.

He is quickly reminded that Fernweh's sex may very well be an advantage when Dragos speaks playfully to her, going as far as to wink. Luther was still not privy in the interest between the sexes, and so he could only label men's infatuation with women as a weakness. Although he did see the value in continuing your line like Alaric had done (and is still doing).

His confidence was further rocked when @Anthonius arrived. The two men were family - uncle and nephew - and Dragos asked something that Luther was wondering too at this very moment. So... Speak, old man. Are we wasting our time here?

He missed the loud exhale that Dragos had let out - for the sigh would of no doubt rose a look from the Noble. Instead, he takes the boy's huffing like water off his back, his smirk everlasting as he hears his Nephew's complaint to him. "Ah, you will have plenty of time for fun." He rumbles, gaze flicking back to the lioness who had no doubt caught the attention of @Dragos . He hoped to not have any great-nephews anytime soon, but hell, if Dragos was anything like his father...

"The family is staying together, yes." With confirmation to his Nephew's question, his attention peers at the other lion, smelling bold of a pride. The white brute is silent, at least from the arrival of Anthonius, and so he speaks no words to him- having no remarks for conversation.

"Do not fret, I saved you a den furthest away from us all." He teases then, focusing back in on his blood with a fond gleam in his eyes. He was happy - despite the obvious lack of excitement from Dragos - because family meant everything to Anthonius. Having them all back in one spot, thriving, was something he had longed for.

@Luther ♔ @Fernweh

@Dragos seem almost...peculiar in his approach to their introductions. fernweh can tell it's obvious he knows @Anthonius, and that along causes her to think that he'll join him. but it also doesn't sound like he's close to the man enough to want to go with him. certainly it seems the mire prince may entice the rogue more, but she cannot forget the smile and wink that was sent to her just seconds ago. unfortunately, fernweh's at a loss for what to say that can convince dragos to be invited.

perhaps it's best you get a change in scenery, no? fernweh said, her tone suggestive. she understand the reasoning behind wanting to separate from family. she, too, once wanted to be free from the greyfloods. though, it only last a few months, and here she is, back with them again. separation breeds closeness in her opinion, so she wouldn't be surprised if dragos eventually goes back to where his blood lives. i'm sure you'll get used to the summit, but you'll have complete freedom to visit your family._{BG — ART — CODE}

DRAGOS

Attention turns to his uncle, but even as he asks the question, Dragos feels he knows the answer. As much as he would love to take @Fernweh's invitation up or see what the stoic, grey yearling might offer, he is bound and chained to the whim of the family. Perhaps it would have been easier if his father were the one to come to collect him to shrug it off, but @Anthonius is not Alexander, unfortunately. The only one Dragos takes pleasure in disappointing is the latter; everyone else is a casualty in that unending quest.

"If I need a change in scenery I’ll be sure to come visit you, lovely," Dragos throws a grin in the striped woman’s direction. "But, unfortunately, family calls." His tone tells everyone just how thrilled he is about that. And as for the younger male - "Catch ya later, Luther." No hard feelings, but Dragos would’ve chased tail to the Summit if he’d been given the choice.

Finally, Dragos relents. "Let’s go, then, uncle." He pushes off, paws heavy, letting the older Savante take the lead when he can. It isn’t like he knows where to go.

Exit.

coded by flea

it's saddening to think yet another have gotten away. but, perhaps it's better this time, as fernweh still doesn't know what to make of this male. will his presence prove to strengthen illyria? or sully it? nevertheless, he's with family, and that's what's more important to the rogue than strangers.

fernweh could have also dodged a bad choice, or she could've had yet another good member slip past her paws. nevertheless, there's always tomorrow, and if she cannot bring in any new members, she'll simply work harder. someday, a rogue will pick her over the others, and she'll be able to go back to the summit and say she finally succeeded. [exit]_{BG — ART — CODE}