Lip was mostly healed but he was taking a moment to rest in his den, suddenly a call from someone unfamiliar rang out. Someone that shouldn't be in the Mire... Standing quickly the ebony male left his den pausing to smell the air, yeah Wolfbron. Shit, this was what he got for slackin! Jogging towards the group he noticed no one was on particular edge, and there was even a cub present. Not one of theirs. Stoic expression became mingled with mild confusion, he knew they were allies but they were bold as brass to strut in here like they owned part of the Mire.

Coming into view of Luther's peripheral vision, he would move to stand a bit behind Tinúvel guarding their healer. And their heir. Yellow eyes narrowed with suspicion, and he felt tense in his entire body. Until Alaric arrived and declared this a peaceful engagement, Livyatan would not drop his guard.


"talk"

ART BY IRISH / CODING BY SENTINEL

@Luther ♔ @Tinúviel

What the hell was going on now?

It's not necessarily strange for there to be politically charged calls for Vater at the border, he knows. Such things were naturally amongst the more boring duties of being a King. Though Hubert can admit that he's finding the whole game of masks and borrowed favor to be more interesting as he grows older. It is, however, strange that such a call should be accompanied by such an overwhelming scent of another pride on the wind.

If it wasn't for the obvious and clearly intentional declaration of Wolfbron's presence, the prince would've thought that he was finally about to witness a war, foolish as it would've been to attack a pride as large and well-established as Ecrosia.

Such a dramatic twist of events would've been befitting of his currently sullen mood, but alas. Hubert knows enough about Vater's affairs to understand that the lions of Wolfbron are their allies and that means he has to play nice, just like when the family that'd once ruled the Cove had paid their borders a visit. And he's simply too proud to continue skulking about the swamp without being seen. As a prince, it's only fair that he should get to leave an impression upon their visitors as well.

He stalks leisurely towards the borders, brow raising when he caught sight of the unexpectedly large crowd. Somehow, there were more women present than he'd expected. Even the one that @Luther ♔ calls High Sovereign is a lioness, albeit a rather ragged looking one. Doing his best to keep a neutral expression, Hubert would move to stand near the pale Heir's side, suffering through his brother's terribly suffocating aura for the sake of presenting himself as royalty too. Prince Hubert Starke. A pleasure. He dips his head slightly towards @Amara, calculatedly polite, if not quite as verbose of a greeting as Luther's had been.

Subtly, he lets his deep green eyes venture across the many strange faces that the white-flecked woman had brought with her, vaguely smirking in @Helah's direction when his gaze snagged upon her pointed ears. Whatever this was about, he hoped it would prove entertaining.

ART + CODE By Dee

Well don't go around tonight
Well it's bound to take your lifeWhile she understood the summons of a leader to the borders, a call for an entire pride was enough to stoke the hound's suspicions. She was not versed in politics the likes of most pride lions, even if she now held rank in the Mire. Such a thing might have been a call to a battle, but why give the enemy a warning before going for their throat?

Dobromira was nearly on the opposing border when the call went out, so it took a small bit of travel to reach the correct side, whisky eyes sweeping the territory line that she traced the edge of as she went. Nothing seemed out of place, but it might always pay to be extra vigilant when someone came knocking.

By the time that she was drawing near enough to get a gauge on the situation, the gentry could see that there were a few familiar or at least recognizable faces of the mire, as well as some not so familiar faces. It would appear that the heir, the young master's older brother, was leading the social charge in the king's current absence. Those that he was speaking to were strangers, but the way that the dark, speckled woman that young master Luther was adressing held herself suggested power.

Dobromira did not get the impression that this was a war party, it was something more subdued and politic. So she kept her mouth shut as she approached the group, wedged tail flicking in contemplative thought while she took in sight and scent.

There's a bad moon on the rise

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The quick growing cub was quick on his feet when he heard the calls. As usual he never water for permission to do as he pleased. Being his immediate demands the rulers of his actions. And as such, the melanistic cub rushed with clear intentions of getting himself into the center of everything. Conquering was in his blood after all, an urge too strong for a youngster like him to simply ignore. He arrived, puffing his chest. He would introduce himself loud and clear to all who had come. "Hey! I am Typhoon Devorre! Heir of the Devorre family!" Or so he had started to believe. Well, he on his childish brain though he deserved that title, more than anyone else..and he wasn't afraid to tell everyone.

code by flea, art by Shazaki

Ah, if it wasn't Amara and.. half the fucking continent of Amaryllis. Interesting. Nephthys hadn't really planned on attending the cluster fuck for the sake of keeping up appearances (or lack thereof), but she couldn't exactly turn down the opportunity to enjoy such a large show. That, and she spotted @Arcania ♔ among the crowd. Nephthys' ears drew forward as she made a beeline for the lioness, attempting to affectionately bump her head against the other's shoulder. Auntie Arc, it's good to see you. Nephthys would never forget Arcana or Seraphiel, two of the constants in her parent's lives. It seemed she had thrown in her cards to the Dieudonne now and Neph was glad to know she was being taken care of.

Make my messes matter
Make this chaos count

"ooc" playing with risks, if he is unwelcome just poke me and I can request post removal


As he discovered more prides within the region, Amaryllis as he'd learned it was called, the Geminus heir was beginning to get it into his mind that it may be a good idea to start scouting as many pride territories as he could. Borders always carried a wealth of scents, and while not always easy to untangle into their individual signatures, they may give him some sort of clue if there was one to be found.

The inky yearling crept along the perimeter of the marshy divide, nostrils flaring as he studied the marker with no such success aside from learning where the border on the side lay. He made note of a tree with several branches that appeared to twist as through trying to grow back down toward the muck as a visual marker should the scentline wash out, for now though, the sound of a call made the boy tense. It lacked aggression, wasn't aimed in his direction. But Darcia still crouched regrettably low into the mud and waited, ears perked to take in every sound that he could.

When nothing happened, he relaxed only slightly. Now would be the logical time to cut and run, but curiosity bade the boy to maybe just take a little peek. Unless there was another pride that made its home in the wetlands, he figured that based on what the girl he'd met before, Theodosia, had told him that this might be Ecrosia.

Bracing himself, Darcia dropped lower and rolled and rubbed the muck into his already dark fur. His color was not his concern, it was the scent. Ugh, he even gave a quick rinse and spit with some of the gritty water, intending on finding a nice sprig of anything to chew later to clean his mouth.

Properly muddied, he crept along the border until he spotted a mass of lions gathering in front and behind it further ahead, mingling. Oh, this was a bad idea.

He lurked like a crocodile, keeping low in a crouch as he settled himself among a tangle of water foliage a fair distance away, listening for any snippets of conversation that might reach him.


Darcia is attempting to stay hidden!

pathfinder level 3 perk to remain hidden
1 is failure, 2 is success

Rolling 1d2: 1

Let every little fracture
In me shatter out loud

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Apollinaire could never be certain what @Amara planned. She was a difficult one to read, albeit the many months he'd spent in the Queen's company. It seemed that she built a wall even with her daughters, which was not unusual for women of her caliber. He'd met plenty like her before, and if he was being honest the starry-furred woman was by far the most level-headed one.

When she gathered all of the Bluffs members, he hadn't anticipated a social event. She never struck him as a socialite, but there was an odd shift in her recently. In any case, he welcomed it with open arms. All the Nobleman knew of Ecrosia was from afar. It looked like a dark and muddy place, which would explain the name... and when they halted at the borders it seemed to live up to it.

After the call, he stood intently behind Amara, while his red eyes narrowed in on the thick foliage and the shadows among it. He'd met Alaric once, at the Wolfbron borders. He'd seemed in a bad predicament, just after he had risen to the throne. When different shapes began to emerge, he focused on the meek girl at the forefront. She seemed completely out of place. Thankfully, two younger men arrived to take up the mantle - they were both sons of Alaric, no doubt.

The recent days have passed by rather slowly for the al-Najma seeress, slowly enough that she's actually been keeping herself fairly busy with adding to her herb stores, if only so she doesn't grow too bored. Or worried, when her thoughts inevitably strayed towards her father and his journey. He'll be fine. She's certain of it.

In the midst of this burst of seeming responsibleness, Hadiya's discovered that there's quite the abundance of interesting and unusual plants within the Mire's borders. All sorts of mushrooms and lichen and watery plants that she'd never encountered before when she'd lived on the beach. Today, she's wading into one of the pools to collect a bunch of horsetail, neatly nipping off the stems and setting them on a sun-warmed flat stone nearby to dry when the unusual call sounds off at the borders.

She perks her head up curiously, nostrils flaring to take in the scent of Wolfbron upon the wind. How strange. Was there some sort of trouble about to happen? Hadiya's not the sort of lioness to cower before adversity (even if some, perhaps, thought she should be), and so she begins making her way over to check things out without much further consideration. Though she does pause for a moment, to snatch up the driest of her horsetail specimens. If there is trouble, having some infection-preventing herbs on paw might prove useful.

But everything she seems pretty calm when she shoulders her way out of the underbrush, despite the thick scent of countless strange lions on the other side of the border. The sound of Luther exchanging pleasantries with another confirms that this is a political visit of some sort. Another loud voice perks her ears, as young Typhoon announces his presence to all those gathered. Ah, should she be introducing herself as well?

Oh, but she's never been the heir of anything, really. Nor does she hold any true title in this place, come to think of it. The thought makes her frown a bit, and for now she hangs back on the sidelines near @Dobromira, a little pile of herbs at her feet.

+10 Collect herbs (Doubled)
+10 Dry or prepare herbs for use (Doubled)
+10 Attend a spar or challenge to assess the wounds (Doubled)

ART COPYRIGHT ERA / CODE COPYRIGHT ANALESE

The memories Myra has of the last time a large force of lions had converged upon their borders weren't exactly pleasant. They still angered her, in fact, on the occasions that her mind lingered upon them for too long, though that day was seasons passed and a relative peace had been left in its wake.

So naturally, the huntress is not exactly pleased to the near entirety of Wolfbron sat upon their borders now, whether the eminent High Sovereign Amara was an ally of theirs or not. These lions had a territory of their own. Unless it had somehow dropped off the face of the earth, there was no appropriate reason Myra could think of for them all to be loitering here, of all places. Much less for the white speckled woman to call all of the Mire's numbers to her side, as if she had control over them too.

It's likely for the best that Alaric's Heir had been the one to greet them first.

The scowling Noble clearly wouldn't have been so generous. Her tail lashes harshly behind her when she arrives, moving to take up position alongside @Livyatan like a second, golden sentry behind @Tinúviel, observing these supposed allies of theirs with a narrowed reptilian gaze.

Whatever their business here was, could it truly not have been carried out elsewhere?

ART COPYRIGHT RIOT / CODE COPYRIGHT ANALESE

Well don't go around tonight
Well it's bound to take your lifeMovement close behind her brings Dobromira's head to a swivel, oaken eyes flashing with something cold before they settle back into blank neutrality when they settle onto a brown cloaked girl thst smells of the mire. She does not know her, but she appears confident enough in herself and carries the right signature, so the hound only gives her a quick glance before looking down at the bundle at her paws.

Flora from the territory, perhaps a gift of some sort for the guests at their door. She is able to pick up the sound of various greetings being exchanged between the two groups, though keeps to her own corner still.

What have you gathered? She starts with the girl near her, taking the small opportunity to parse any familiar plant names should she answer.


@Hadiya

There's a bad moon on the rise

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