What the fuck.

Something wet and egregiously disgusting stuck to Cairidan's paw. Uncomfortably warm, distinctly... Cairidan's face twisted with disgust, lifting his paw up from the thicket. He hadn't imagined such large animals could navigate such a thick rainforest, much less defecate here, but here he was, and here it was, in all its grotesques and smelly glory.

What the fuck! he howled, flailing his paw around desperately, flinging the excrement in every which direction in a desperate attempt to rid himself of its vile stink. Unfortunately, however, it did little in the way of giving him such a surrender, and the boy was forced to quickly dart through the underbrush, searching desperately for a source of water that could clean away the shameful poop that nearly reached his ankle. He'd come here in hopes of connecting, in some way, to the father who'd told him so much about this place; oh, he had said, how the jungles of his youth were alight with plants that illuminated purple and blue, fireflies dancing between trees whose ancient trunks wove around other trees as they raced toward the sky. This place, by comparison, was a dump.

By the time Cairidan had stumbled upon a small river, the mess of his leg had all but dried and stained the white of his fur, and he was certain the smell of it would remain on him for days without thorough cleanings. A loud and exasperated sigh slipped from his lips as he pressed the leg deep into the winding river, lingering at its edge, watching carefully as the current swept lazily and tickled between his toes. His brow furrowed, staring at the distorted reflection of his face in the water. So much like his, and yet, everything about Cairidan was different; starved, frustrated. Alone.

So very alone.

@Bruno ♔

TW: gross

Luck had Bruno close to the scene when it happened – too close. He was crouched within a leafy vantage point when the swearing started, having come to the jungle in the first place to do more research on the berries Alexander and Dobromira had discussed. Morbid curiosity fueled him, interested to find out whether they did actually hold the potential of felling a lion. That was when he caught another lion's scent and began his pursuit.

He was tracking the scent, with his nose lifted to the air and his steps silent: a young lion, likely a yearling male, without any particular pride scent clinging to him. Bruno tucked himself within the foliage as he neared to prevent himself from being spotted, and that was when chaos broke out. "What the fuck!" The fellow adolescent howled repeatedly. He started flinging his paw around, and it was already too late for Bruno before he could even truly smell what was happening.

Globs of who knows what started spattering around the scene with no regard for how they landed, even coating Bruno's pelt in an uneven layer of the stuff. He recoiled with bewilderment, forgetting his stealth for a moment as he twisted his features in disgusted surprise. There was no missing the odor – the fowl stench that now clung to him, earthly, revolting, and pungeant. He parted his jaws as if to yell, when the other lion ran away, of all things! Bruno stopped short and stared with furrowed brows as the dark figure disappeared into the brush. Coward's not getting away with this, he thought bitterly as he stood to begin his chase.

He raced through the tree line of the jungle, dodging this way and that to keep from hitting into the lush greenery and losing his target. Overwhelmed by the intense stench of his own fur, now covered in miscellaneous shit, Bruno was forced to rely on his sight alone to keep track of the perpetrator and could not allow too large of a gap to form between them.

He only slowed when the stranger did, coming to approach a familiar river within the jungle and submerging his paws. He did seem rather due for a bath. Tucking his chin with renewed resolve, Bruno lurched forward and attempted to give the lion a forceful shove from behind to try and push him in.

"Keep your shit to yourself," he snarled.

---

|| march y9 | 1y 7m | EM royalty | at aniadar jungle | @Cairidan ||
+5 - Track someone through a neutral territory
+5 - Study the plant life of a neutral territory

+5 Get revenge

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Cairidan were far too young and far too disgruntled to be keen of @Bruno ♔'s presence hot on his heels. Encumbered by the grotesqueness on his paws is enough to make every potential threat within a few mile's radius aware of his plight. By the time he reached the river's edge, the relief of refreshing water washing away the nearly-dried (certainly elephant, or some other giant beast) excrement away from his white paws, Cairidan felt a wave of relief flood over him, a delighted sigh exhaling from his lips at the idea that he'd unscathed from this completely alone, completely unbothered by others who may question his lack of direction or attention to where he placed his paws right before him. His mind had been too enthralled by this dreary place, after all, and that was as worthy of an excuse as any of them.

That was until he felt a cold rush of water on his face, up his nose.

By the time he resurfaced, he had barely registered he'd been pushed into the river in the first place. The snowmelt from the mountains chilled the rushing waters even as it warmed coming down from altitude, spilling out into the summer seas. He shuddered, shocked, his eyes bleary against the dark brown form that stood from the direction he'd been pushed in. His voice was a muffled sound at first, words barely registering against the chaos of his splashing limbs. Keep your shit to yourself, the silhouette seemed to say, and once the shock of his sudden submerging seemed to settle, the cold reality that he'd indeed not been alone settled in cruelly.

Had he not been forced to tread water to keep from being swept downstream, Cairidan might have formulated a far sharper response, or attempted to throw himself at the boy who dare speak to him in such a manner. Instead, he relents, half-gargling on water as he struggles against the current. It's not my shit! he snarls back, trudging back to shore. The thick of his growing mane and star-speckled fur clings to him, shuddering at every breeze, and the skinniness in his belly marked of a rogue is apparent when he finally wrenches himself free of the river. He is sopping wet, now; sans poop, but just as uncomfortable. Some dumb animal left their turd out in the open, he hissed, his eyes keen on Bruno, careful to make sure he's not pushed into the river again. It wasn't you, was it? Obviously, it wasn't; it was far too large and had done too much damage to be conjured up by lionkind. Yet still, Cairidan couldn't help but to push buttons.

He moved after the perpetrator and watched with satisfaction as the larger lion went stumbling forward, his great heft serving to make the perfect splash as he hit the water. The prince trailed through the jungle scene to approach the water's edge. The image of him resurfacing, his mane slicked flush against the muscle of his frame, was what first clued nose-blind Bruno in that the perpetrator may be no older than he. Something about him treading and thrashing, the dazed look in his eye – it made his face flush with malicious glee.

"It's not my shit!" Came the inevitable rebuttal, shot back at him as the lion came trudging up to the shore. The earth there was littered with smooth stones and tangled reeds, creating a thick blanket at the water's edge soiled with dripping water.

"Your paw, your shit," Bruno insisted flatly, wrinkling his nose with contempt. He looked over the stranger's figure then – the stark skinniness displayed as his furs clung comedically. It rendered whatever venom dripped from his words far less potent. He strode further, testing the divide between the boys, subconsciously lifting himself as if to try and meet the other lion's eye level. "Are you going to clean up your mess, or what?" He hissed, his senses still dizzied with the wreaking of his own spattered pelt.

---

@Cairidan
+5 - Track someone through a neutral territory
+5 - Study the plant life of a neutral territory

_CODE

@Bruno ♔ was just slightly older than he, and similarly hot-headed. Cairidan's face was twisted into a scowl, the tendrils of dripping hair framing his face, falling just to the side of his eyes. Despite their difference in size, Bruno stood larger than he upon the riverbank, with Cairidan one paw on the shoreline but otherwise still just short, half-steeped in the cold river. His fur was darker wetter, its speckled appearance almost hidden beneath the darkened, wet fur of his flank. The golden-blue glint of his eyes were not spared, however, and glanced furiously at Bruno; curly-furred and scowling just as much as he.

By the time Cairidan had heaved himself out of the river, Bruno came to meet him. The distance between them was closed, uncomfortably, but Cairidan's stubbornness fettered him in place, refusing to relent. He did not stand too much taller than him, but the intensity between them was shared equally, so heavy he swore he could breathe it in and feel its weight in his lungs. His gaze lifted from Bruno's brownish frame, following the half-curled tendrils of his yearling mane, before lifting toward his eyes; dark, endlessly green. Cairidan might have been content to look at them for a good while, but the boy's next words wrenched him from his silent gawking.

What—you want me to lick you clean? he retorted, his nose twitching in disgust. Such a prospect might have almost been enjoyable, had it not involved poop or a handsome boy with a terrible attitude (Ha, who does that sound like, Cairidan?). Nah, he says simply before Bruno can retort, and lifts his paw, hoping to give Bruno enough of a shove on the shoulder that he feels into the river, too. However, Cairidan is young and uncoordinated and still sopping wet, and may very well be brought down into it with him.

They stood in a panting cacophony choir, juvenile frames shaking with rageful breaths that failed to harmonize with the river water falling in steady drips from the younger boy's pelt. For a while, neither of them dared move, their gazes boring into one another with heated resentment. It was as if that thick jungle air encased them tightly within its humid grasp. Young Bruno took in every detail of that starlit pelt, those bright dawn eyes. Finally, their words cut the air in sharp slices.

"What—you want me to lick you clean? Nah."

It happened quickly, then. The prince was just twisting his face up to deny the claim when he felt a firm shove at his soiled shoulder, rendering the unsuspecting teen tumbling over toward the rushing water. Bruno mewled with boyish surprise as he flung his limbs out wildly, first in an attempt at anchoring himself to the other teen, but then more likely clawing him desperately as another casualty to the river. He hit the surface with a splash, limbs still wild and flailing.

---

@Cairidan

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He felt the sharp cold of the water before he heard it roaring in his ears. He careened at the feeling of @Bruno ♔'s claws anchoring in his shoulder and dragging him down with him in a fray of flurrying limbs. The two landed on top of one another, Cairidan's head shoved underneath the water by some stray limb before he was finally able to surge upward, coughing up which he'd swallowed during the wail that had choked out of his mouth just before impact. His long mane fell wet and heavy into his eyes, momentarily obstructing his vision, though he could feel the writhing form of Bruno nearby, could hear the churning of water where they both attempted to stay afloat.

It felt colder this time than the last, a harsh shudder running down his spine as he quickly brushed the half-curled tendrils of hair free from his gaze. The dark, murky depths of the river blended well with the brownish hues of Bruno's pelt, and in that brief and passing moment, Cairidan suddenly couldn't see where he had landed. Eyes flung wide, and though there was still a good amount of coughing to be done to clear the water from his lungs, a choked cry echoed from his mouth.

W—here?

He might have called out for his name if he had known it, but all he could do in that breadth of a second was to call out something, anything. Where are you? Knowing Cairidan's luck, he might have very well been behind him, completely fine, snickering at the boy's sudden concern, such a stark contrast from the brutal indifference he'd had before.

He landed on his back, dragging the larger boy down on top of him in a briny flurry of motion. His mouth filled with gritty water as his yowl was submerged in the stuff, its frigid depths enveloping the yearling with a coldness that would not end. Brilliant boy, he had managed to drag the stranger squarely atop him by trying to use him as a buoy, his broad girth proven quite plainly by how he squashed Bruno while the river rushed on above. He thrashed and thrusted, eyes roving about madly through the shapes of light made hazed through the murky water.

Bruno's chest tightened as his air was depleted. Every second of it was panicked agony, instinct hissing that this was the other boy's attempt at revenge. Garbling under the surface, Bruno lashed out with a single paw to try and punch at the other lion's gut in a feeble attempt to get him off.

---

@Cairidan

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He could have blamed it on the rushing water and the sudden fray of being pulled into its bitter cold on not realizing that @Bruno ♔ was directly beneath him. The prince might have gotten pelted over and over by Cairidan's thrashing limbs, intent on staying above the water as he searched for the boy's familiar head to pop above the water. But just as he turned, a sudden paw thrust upward and out of the water, hitting the star-speckled boy squarely in the chest, right at the bottom of his ribs. A rough and resounding cough caused Cairidan to curl inward, to lose the breath in his lungs all at once, and feel the burn of being unable to rebreathe.

Ack! he coughed, quickly swimming away from where Bruno thrashed underneath him. Suddenly, he could tell that the bank beneath him was more stable, and the flow of water between his lungs was only a soft threat. It was the only sound he could manage before he was enveloped in that desperate need to breathe once again, struggling to regain control of the spasms in his stomach where Bruno had bruised, his attention suddenly drawn away from the boy who had dragged them both into the river; unable to see yet if his head had finally risen above the water.

That was, until all at once, he abandoned the notion of breathing, and ignored the white-hot pain that unfurled in his lungs. Lunging forward, blindly, he sought to dive under the water and attempt to grab Bruno by the scruff, hoping to yank him back above the water's surface.

That punch was the key to his release, freedom nearly immediate once his paw made contact with the base of the other boy's ribcage. Still, even with the departing pressure of body against body, Bruno found himself in a floundering haze. The world seemed to spin out into a waterlogged void as he thrashed toward elusive salvation only to be met with an unending river. Next he knew, he was being yanked to a supposed watery grave.

Bruno choked. He stuttered rapid blinks as light poured in more fully around him, a cacophony of dripping plummeting from his pelt as he hung limp out of the water. The prince flailed then, snapping his eyes open wide and trying to throw himself out of the other boy's grasp – out of the river and onto the shore. He sputtered, he coughed, he wheezed. That gritty water simply refused to be free of him as it clogged every orifice with its burning remnants.

"Be more careful," he chided weakly, craning his neck to shoot a glare over his shoulder to his supposed savior. It was the closest thing to thanks he would get. Frowning, Bruno turned to make a dripping journey home, his initial goal of studying berries forgotten entirely in favor of saving what little face he had remaining.

---

-exit- @Cairidan

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